Chapter Twelve: A warm Summer Wind

Merlin testily tugged at his bonds. Arthur had wrapped the leather tight around his wrists. Carefully, Merlin peered at the king. For months, he hadn't seen King Arthur. Now a layer of frost sealed up those clear blue eyes, making them barely recognizable. Was that the look the king had sported when issuing Merlin's execution all those months ago? Merlin released a long breath of air as disappointment wrenched at him. This was not the reunion he had imagined. He hadn't really expected Arthur to apologize, but had hoped for less hostility. That had been a rather naïve hope, it seemed. Dangerous look on his face, Arthur grabbed Merlin's arm and wrenched him away. The warlock didn't put up any resistance. He couldn't deny, though, that doubt was boiling up in him. He should've stayed away.

"You know this is entirely unnecessary," Merlin told the king, slightly raising his bound wrists.

Arthur's hand angrily tightened around Merlin's arm and he pressed out, "Shut up."

The warlock sighed. At least some things never changed. Feeling rather frustrated, Merlin still allowed himself to be pulled away. Leon and Gwaine followed. There was a thunderous look on Gwaine's face and that at least managed to paint a small grin on Merlin's face. He'd missed the man.

Merlin watched as the knights rounded up the horses. Arthur still held him tightly and radiated nothing but fury. Not wanting to address the man when he was in one of his moods, Merlin instead watched as Gwaine led his horse towards them. The knight's eyes wandered over Merlin, then he asked,

"Where's your horse?"

"Er…" Merlin startled.

Through the corners of his eyes, he peered at Arthur. Unfortunately, the king did listen in and Merlin released a long breath. He concentrated on Gwaine again and said,

"I… erm… I didn't exactly come here… by horse?"

He prayed that the knight wouldn't prod and threw him a look. Gwaine, though, could sometimes be thick and Merlin almost groaned as he asked,

"How did you get here, then? By foot? We're quite away from any settlement."

Arthur watched him and already suspicion darkened his face. Merlin tugged at his bonds and said reluctantly,

"Yeah… by foot."

It was a poor lie. He had no provisions on himself and was not in the least bit equipped for any longer treks on foot. The sharp frown on Arthur's face told him that the king had realised that as well. Desperate to avoid any talks about dragons, Merlin tried to diffuse this interrogation,

"So… I suppose we should set up camp somewhere? It'll get dark soon."

Gwaine readjusted the straps of his horse's saddle and supplied, "Yeah. Good idea. I'm dead tired to be honest."

He pursed his lips and threw Merlin a contemplative look. Then the knight flashed him a smile and said, "I guess you can ride with me."

"Certainly not," an angry voice cut over them.

A soft gasp left him as Merlin was wrenched away. His upper arm started to smart where Arthur held him so tightly. Wordlessly, the king manhandled the warlock over to his own horse. Disappointment slowly turning to annoyance, Merlin watched as Arthur pulled some rope from his saddlebag. Gruffly, the king grabbed Merlin's bound hands and tied one end of the rope around the leather cord at his wrists. Merlin threw the king a glare as Arthur then, holding the other end of the rope, mounted his horse.

"Oh come on," Gwaine snapped. "You can't be serious."

Merlin could see a storm brewing up in the knight's eyes. So, pushing his own temper away, he sent him a small smile and decided, "It's fine, Gwaine."

The king threw them both an icy look. He secured the rope around the pommel of his saddle. Then, lethal glint in his eyes, he commanded, "Let's go."

The king ordered his horse forward and Merlin had to follow if he didn't want to be dragged behind. At least Arthur hadn't urged his horse into a trot. Yet. The warlock tried to ignore the hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach as he trudged behind Arthur's horse. His magic already bristled irately inside Merlin and he wondered if he shouldn't just let it run free. It wouldn't be hard to throw off his bonds. He'd be gone in an instant. Clearly, the King of Camelot didn't want his help. Merlin worried his bottom lip while he stared at the back of Arthur's head. He really should not have come back. Why, oh why, hadn't he just once and for all washed his hands off Camelot?

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Merlin stared into the crackling camp fire. Gwaine had settled on the spot beside him while Arthur and Leon sat on the tree trunk on the other side of the fire. Merlin breathed in deeply. The humid and spicy smells of the forest surrounded him and like usual they managed to calm his frayed nerves. The winter air was still brisk, despite the approaching spring, but the camp fire exuded a comforting warmth. Sitting here with his companions felt so easy, so familiar, that Merlin's heart sung and hurt at the same time. His eyes slid closed and he heard the crackling fire, the sounds of the horses nearby, and he felt protected in a way that he hadn't known he missed.

Merlin opened his eyes again and was instantly trapped in Arthur's gaze. Hard expression on his face, the king stared at Merlin with poorly contained anger simmering in his blue eyes. Maybe Arthur wanted to lunge over at Merlin and punch him right in the face. Wouldn't be the first time. Merlin felt a twinge going through his chest and he averted his eyes from the king. Even after all this time, Arthur's aversion was hard to bear and Merlin wasn't prepared to face it. At least the blond had allowed Gwaine to cut Merlin's bonds. Absentmindedly, the warlock rubbed over his wrist. The hard leather had left behind red welts on his skin.

"Here."

Gwaine, smile in place, offered Merlin a bowl with stew. He gladly accepted and tried to ignore the disapproving look on Arthur's face. Clearly, the king did not really want to share his rations with the prisoner. Merlin ducked his head and murmured a soft,

"Thank you."

"It's the least we could do." Gwaine grinned at him and said easily, "If only we had some mead, Merlin. I feel like celebrating this reunion."

Merlin peered at his friend and returned the grin. Chewing his food, the warlock threw a contemplative look at Gwaine. He swallowed and then carefully posed the question that had been burning in him since he'd jumped into the fight earlier,

"So… why exactly did you fight soldiers of Camelot's army?"

Before Gwaine could reply, Arthur hurled biting sarcasm at him, "For you, it must've felt so strange to attack men wearing Camelot livery."

Merlin stiffened under the sharp words, but banned all emotion from his face. He met Arthur's eyes as he replied quietly, "It did. Being attacked by Camelot men, on the other hand, was indeed familiar."

That was followed by an uncomfortable silence and Arthur's heated glare almost burned holes into Merlin. Still, the warlock didn't break eye contact with the enraged king. If Arthur had pulled his dagger and thrown it at him, he wouldn't have been surprised. After a moment, Leon cleared his throat and asked awkwardly,

"Anyway… How did you find us?"

Merlin looked at the knight. Leon was wary of Merlin as well, he could tell. But the knight at least wasn't openly hostile like his master. The warlock cast the man a small smile. Shortly, he pondered to lie, but Merlin didn't want to hide any longer. Why should he deny his nature? The truth was out either way.

"Earlier I told you I could feel it when Camelot fell. I didn't know what exactly happened, though I had my suspicions. So, I went and asked one of the Fae to scry for me. Tha-"

"Excuse me? What?!" Arthur asked, dangerous tint to his voice.

Merlin shifted on his seat. Discussing anything remotely magic around Arthur still managed to send spikes of irrational fear through the warlock. It shouldn't, but it did. His traitorous heart raced in his chest, but he hid all emotion behind an unreadable mask. Arthur glared at him and demanded an explanation. Voice controlled, Merlin said,

"I'm not a Seer. I don't have that gift." Arthur snorted and Merlin tried to ignore that. "I asked a Fae to do it for me. I offered her a warm summer wind in return."

Arthur's eyes travelled over him and he crinkled his nose. "Well, isn't that just lovely?"

The harsh sarcasm cut right into Merlin. Keeping his voice level, the warlock continued, "The Fae saw right into Camelot. And she told me that evil had infested it."

"Magic, you mean?" Arthur sneered.

"A spell," Merlin corrected quietly. "The Fae don't understand the mortal world, so she couldn't name the one who had cast the spell. But she told me it was a dark magic-user that was promised to the Triple Goddess." He licked over his lips before he muttered, "Morgana."

"Yeah," Gwaine sighed and threw another piece of wood into the fire. "It was Morgana, alright."

The warlock turned to his friend. "What did she do?"

"What?" Arthur scoffed. "Your little fairy friend didn't know that?"

"Not exactly," Merlin said, harshly ignoring the scorn. "She told me that the spell unbalanced the hearts of the people and filled them with darkness."

"Once again," the king sneered. "magic is so straight-forward and incredibly helpful. Why, I am impressed."

Merlin's mouth clapped shut as the sharp sarcasm once again washed over him. Gwaine glared at Arthur and snapped, "Can't you just lay off him?"

Of course the king would take offence and sniped, "No, I will bloody well not drop this. He's a sorcerer!"

Before they would resort to blows, Leon turned to Merlin and explained, keeping his voice calm, "Morgana used some kind of enchantment on the people of Camelot. It suddenly turned everyone against Arthur and bewitched them to attack the king. You've seen the Camelot soldiers earlier. They were all trying to get to Arthur. Morgana somehow controls their minds."

This sobered both, Gwaine and Arthur, up pretty fast. A chill went down Merlin's spine as he heard the extend of Morgana's power. That was no easy feat. Her prowess was growing. Softly he nodded his head.

"What about you, though?" Merlin asked Leon. "You remained unaffected. So did Gwaine."

A dazzling smile appeared Gwaine's face. He kicked lazily back in his seat and said, "As a matter of fact, I wasn't in Camelot when the whole thing went down."

Merlin raised a questioning eyebrow at him. "What?"

"Yeah," the knight nodded. "Left right after you did."

"Deserted, more like," Arthur growled irritably.

Gwaine didn't even try to defend himself but just shrugged his shoulders. "I simply had enough of seeing your face, Princess."

Arthur's jaw clenched in an effort to control his upcoming temper. Once again, Leon intervened and said, "As for me, we don't know why the spell didn't affect me."

"I see," Merlin hummed.

He picked up a twig and poked at the fire, lost in his thoughts. Morgana had conjured very powerful black magic. Keeping the minds of so many people under control demanded great skill. Gwaine's voice pulled him from his thoughts,

"What do you think?"

"Hm?"

"Well, why was Leon left unaffected?" the knight asked casually. "You're the expert on this magic stuff, right?"

That word alone, out in the open, again sent fear right through Merlin. Magic. So much power in one word. Power and misery. Carefully, he dared to throw a look at Arthur. Once again disgust settled on the king's face. It was hard to escape that hate. Merlin pulled his thin jacket tighter around himself. Despite it all, he would not let his anxiety seep into his voice. Calmly, he replied,

"I think it's because of the Cup of Life."

Through the corners of his eyes, he saw Leon stiffen. "What do you mean?"

"You drank from the Cup," Merlin explained. "It saved your life and, I think, its magic still protects you."

Gwaine raised his eyebrows while Leon leaned in and asked softly, "The cup, huh?"

"Oh come on." Arthur rolled his eyes at that and said disdainfully, "That's ridiculous."

"How'd you know?" Gwaine threw him a warning glare.

The king crinkled his nose. "Well, for one I know that Merlin here is certainly not an expert of anything." He fixed Merlin with a snide look and said, degrading tint to his voice, "Just because he once flipped through a magic book, it doesn't change what he really is: An idiot. That he fell for magic actually proves it if you ask me."

Merlin narrowed his eyes, magic bristling irately, as Arthur's ridicule washed over him. It made him want to punch the other in the face. At the same time it made Merlin want to curl up and hide. Once again, the conversation lapsed. Merlin didn't want to contribute any more and instead returned to his bowl with stew that had grown cold by now. He cursed his own stupid decision to return to Camelot. After all this, he was still not ready to face Arthur's wrath. Merlin glanced at the king. Anger was written all over Arthur's face. He looked like he wanted to pull his sword and chop off Merlin's head. Now that the warlock studied him closer, though, Arthur appeared to be quite exhausted, if those dark circles under his eyes were anything to go by. A nasty half-healed cut disturbed the skin at his temple and Merlin could see hints of fading bruises on Arthur's face. He was injured, Merlin could tell by the way the king held himself, although Arthur tried his best to hide that fact. Even his armour looked dull and dented at places.

"So, what are you going to do now?" Merlin eventually spoke up again.

The king only scanned him icily and didn't reply. It was Gwaine who provided, "We're actually trying to find Emrys."

Merlin spluttered and almost choked on his own spittle. He coughed and stared at Gwaine. Voice shaky, he blurted,

"What?"

A terribly knowing grin curled Gwaine's lips. Oh Gods, Merlin thought as panic rushed through him. Did they know? Amusement dancing in his eyes, Gwaine said,

"Yes, we try to find Emrys. Arthur here really wants to speak w-"

"Gwaine!" the king harshly cut over him.

"What?" Gwaine griped.

Arthur sent him a lethal glare and hissed, "Don't tell him."

"Why not?" the knight drawled. "Maybe Merlin can help."

The warlock stiffened in trepidation as now Arthur's hard gaze cut into him. Suspiciously, the king asked, "Why would he be able to help?"

"Merlin's a sorcerer." Gwaine shrugged easily. "Might know a magic way to contact Emrys."

Arthur rolled his eyes dismissively and meanly replied, "As I said, Merlin is generally useless. Won't be any better now that he's a witch."

Merlin's hands had balled into tight fists. It now took him a conscious effort to uncurl his cramped fingers. His heart still hammered away in his chest. He kept the panic bottled up, though, and instead inquired breathlessly,

"Why do you want to speak with Emrys?"

Gwaine raked his fingers through his hair and supplied airily, "Some old Druid told us that Emrys is destined to be Arthur's very own magical body guard. 'pparently, there's a whole prophecy about it. So Arthur here needs to ask for his help."

Merlin blanched and felt slightly dizzy as he stared at the knight. They knew… Arthur knew about the prophecy? Blood loudly rushing in his ears, Merlin stared down at his hands in his lap. He couldn't quite believe it. The king really sought Emrys' help?

"That's enough!"

Merlin was startled from his thoughts as Arthur shot up from his seat. Anger glinting in his eyes, the king glared at Gwaine and hissed,

"Not another word of this!"

Merlin glanced at Arthur. Clearly, the king did not want to divulge his plans in front of Merlin. As Arthur's discontent was directed at Gwaine, the knight raised his hands in a gesture of peace, the smirk on his face belying the gesture. Arthur, still glowering, decided sternly,

"It's late. Let's turn in."

It could've been almost funny, Merlin mused, still feeling shaky. Arthur didn't trust one sorcerer and yet at the same time he strove after another's help. He rubbed a shaky hand over his face. Never had he expected Arthur to want Emrys' help. Not after all that had happened. This was still the same man that had broken Merlin's arm and his ribs just for having magic. The warlock's thoughts twisted around each other and turned into a knotted mess. It sealed his lips and he refused to admit to his Druid name.

"Leon, take the first watch," Arthur ordered. "Wake me when it's my turn."

"Yes, Sire," was Sir Leon's immediate reply.

Merlin watched them silently. Arthur, dark look still on his features, spread out his bedroll. Leon sighed and wandered off towards the horses to make sure they were taken care of. It was strange being here. Merlin had made his peace with never returning to these lands again. Now, here he was and he had no idea how to behave around these men anymore. Gwaine, obviously having no such problems, rolled his eyes and sent Merlin an easy grin while he whispered to him,

"Boy am I glad you're back. They've all been quite insufferable without you around."

That managed to pull a smile out of Merlin. Gwaine's eyes glinted at him mischievously. Then the knight got up as well to get his bivouac ready. Merlin released a long breath of air. He ran his hand over his face. Admittedly, he was rather tired himself. Although this latest revelation about Arthur's quest to find Emrys would probably keep sleep away for some time. Weakly, Merlin slipped down the trunk he'd been sitting on and now leaned with his back against it. He stretched his legs, so they were closer to the fire's warmth.

"Take this," Gwaine's voice cut through his tiredness.

Merlin looked up. The knight was offering him his cloak. Not one of the red cloaks of a Camelot knight, Merlin noted absently. He accepted the dark blue cloth. Gwaine flashed his teeth in a smirk.

"Don't want you to freeze."

Merlin returned the smile and felt something uncurl in the pit of his stomach. Maybe he didn't know how to behave around Arthur, but Merlin was truly happy to see Gwaine again. He'd missed the man. The knight winked at him. Then, yawn on his lips, Gwaine slipped into his bedroll. Smile still on his face, Merlin wrapped the cloak around his shoulders. Maybe later, when the others were asleep, he'd dare send a heating spell through the cloak's fabric.

That train of throught made him hesitate. Why wait? Softly, the warlock tugged at his magic and whispered a spell. He felt the familiar golden hue of magic flashing through his eyes. Arthur, a few metres away, stiffened and his hand shot to his sword. As nothing nefarious happened, the king refrained from an attack. Still, Arthur's angry gaze bored into Merlin. The cloak's fabric, though, heated up nicely. A sigh on his lips, the warlock closed his eyes and enjoyed his magic's heat on his skin.

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