Chapter 3 An Invitation
A/N: Edited and revised May 2021
In the still quiet of the early morning, Merlin lay face-down, sprawled across his narrow bed, one arm tucked under his head, the other hanging off the side of the cot. His thin blanket had fallen half onto the floor as he had rolled over a few minutes previous. Gaius cracked the door open and looked in on his boy. He smiled fondly at the sleeping warlock as he reminded himself that his nephew was far too old to be called a boy. Gaius was almost loath to wake Merlin, but it had to be done.
"Merlin! You had best get up!" Gaius grinned wider at the groan that was clearly audible, despite being muffled by Merlin's pillow.
"It's hardly even light yet," Merlin grumbled, reaching blindly for his blanket to pull it over his head.
"Oh, no you don't. I have need of some wolfsbane, alder bark and horehound. You'll have to go fairly deep into the forest for the wolfsbane, so you'd best get a move on." Gaius didn't spare any effort to keep the door from latching shut rather loudly. The noise would get Merlin up faster.
Merlin glanced at the window and grimaced at the dim grey light of the barely risen sun. It had been a week since he had woken up this early. He could not deny that he preferred the new routine that Arthur had fallen into since marrying Gwen. Rather than expecting his breakfast within an hour after dawn, Arthur was content to breakfast with his wife at eight in the morning. Merlin was well aware that the king's new relaxed schedule wouldn't last beyond the first few weeks of Arthur and Gwen's marriage. But Merlin had decided that he was going to enjoy it while it lasted and take advantage of the opportunity to get more sleep. Of course, Gaius had other ideas, such as sending him into the forest at dawn. Merlin sighed and grudgingly supposed that it could be worse. He could be cleaning the leech tank, instead.
With a groan and a muttered curse, Merlin stumbled out of bed and to the cupboard in order to get dressed. Contrary to Arthur's belief, Merlin did know how to use his storage cupboard. He had, in fact, endeavored to use it for many years now. Ever since his mother had scolded him for his slovenliness when she had come to Camelot gravely ill thanks to Merlin's failed attempt to bargain with Nimueh.
Merlin shook his head at the memory of his mother's fierce reprimand (she'd cowed him even though she had been bedridden) and trudged down the steps from his room while still pulling his jacket onto his shoulders. Merlin couldn't stop the huge yawn that escaped him; he'd been up late reading his spellbook again. Gaius chuckled and handed him a slice of bread and a hunk of cheese along with the burlap herb bag, dismissing him with a fatherly smile and a wave of his hand.
"And don't dawdle, Merlin. The king may be sleeping later, but that doesn't mean that he wants his breakfast stone cold when he does rise."
"Don't worry, Gaius, I'll be back in plenty of time."
Merlin hustled through the halls nibbling on the bread and cheese. He didn't slow when he reached the streets of the city, intent as he was on finishing his task for his mentor. The guards at the gate barely blinked an eye at Merlin when he hurried past them. He'd become quite a familiar sight at that hour in the morning, herb sack slung over his shoulder as it was. Merlin was rather glad for it; he didn't particularly relish the prospect of being delayed from attending to his morning duties. Arthur always delighted in giving him extra chores when he was late.
Fortunately, Merlin found the horehound and alder bark easily enough; both grew quite abundantly near to the city where the trees were thinner. Unfortunately, Gaius was correct in assuming that the wolfsbane was deep into the forest, as it grew best in mountain meadows. Luckily, Merlin knew of a field about three quarters of an hour on foot from Camelot that always yielded plenty of wolfsbane.
It was there in the clearing as Merlin was harvesting the wolfsbane that he heard near-silent footsteps approaching him. Tucking the plants that he held in his hands into his bag, Merlin slowly got to his feet and slung the braided-twine strap of the burlap sack over his shoulder. Reaching out with his magic, Merlin closed his eyes and brushed against three minds not far from where he stood.
"Emrys."
"Who's there?" he called back, closing his eyes and feeling for their magic.
"Emrys, it is I, Iseldir, chieftain of the eastern druid clan. I come with Heilyn and Morien, chieftains of the northern and southern druid clans."
"What has brought you so close to the city? Arthur is not his father, but the laws against magic haven't changed." Merlin asked, curious.
"We are hopeful that we can have peace between Camelot and our peoples. We come to you, Emrys, in the hope that you can facilitate a meeting between the druids and King Arthur."
"Show yourselves," Merlin said firmly. He found it rather disconcerting to have a conversation with a disembodied voice. It was very personal, intimate, even, and it had driven him mad every time Kilgharrah had insisted on summoning him in that way. Without further prompting, three men dressed in druid robes emerged from the trees and knelt before him, lowering their heads in solemn respect. Merlin grimaced.
"It is an honor, Emrys," one of the unfamiliar men said without raising his head.
"Honestly, that is really not necessary," Merlin insisted. He didn't like the reverence they held for him. It made him feel like he wasn't doing enough to deserve their awe. "And please, call me Merlin."
"We only wish to show respect for you and your great destiny," the other of the unfamiliar druids answered. "I am Heilyn, chieftain of the northern tribe."
"And I am Morien, chieftain of the southern clan. We are honored to meet you in person," the first man repeated. Iseldir watched Merlin's obvious discomfort with a slight smile.
"Right. Er, and you as well," Merlin offered awkwardly. He felt distinctly out of place; their bows and honoring words didn't quite match his servant's garb and dirt-encrusted hands from picking herbs. "You want to discuss peace with Arthur; what is it you want of me?"
Iseldir stood and took another step forward at Merlin's question, producing a tightly furled scroll from within the pocket of his robes. Merlin took it and put it into his bag without hesitation, sparing no glance at its contents.
"We are honored to request that you carry our invitation for a peace negotiation to take place at our next clan meet. Our three tribes are convening in a fortnight in the Darkling Woods. We hoped that the king would be willing to come with a delegation to see that we are truly a people who desire peace."
"I will do what I can; I believe the king is ready to offer peace to the druids." Merlin remembered Arthur's heartfelt promise at the druid shrine. He didn't doubt that Arthur would be ready for this next step in their destiny.
"We hope to meet you again soon, Emrys," Iseldir said. Then he and the other two chieftains bowed in respect and disappeared into the trees.
Merlin was starting to wish that he had come out on horseback. Usually he preferred to make these lone trips into the forest on foot so that he could decompress and let go of the stress that built up in the city. It also didn't hurt that these trips usually afforded him at least an hour or two of unobserved time for magic. It felt good to release the iron grip he used to keep his magic from boiling over unintentionally. But now he just wanted to get back to the citadel as quickly as possible before he lost any more time.
He wouldn't have been late at all, early, even, had his little talk with Iseldir not put him behind schedule. Now, Arthur and Gwen would be waiting for their breakfast, and Arthur was never pleasant when he didn't have breakfast on time. Merlin sighed and picked up his pace, moving past the gentle jog he had started with and running as quick as he dared, trying his best to avoid the roots that stuck out of the ground. For the most part he was successful; though he had stumbled a few times, Merlin had managed to stay on his feet.
Finally, the castle walls were visible through the trees. Merlin grinned and put on a burst of speed in his eagerness. Unfortunately, it was then that his foot caught in a rabbit hole and he went down in a spectacular tangle of herb bag and limbs.
"Ooow," he groaned, just lying there for a moment.
"Merlin! That was rather impressive."
"Gwaine!" Merlin sheepishly looked up at his approaching friend. He had tried to avoid being alone with Gwaine ever since the knight had seen Merlin summon his goblet into his hand at the feast. He couldn't be sure if Gwaine had been drunk enough to forget the incident, or if the knight had simply shrugged it off as his imagination. Merlin, however, wasn't about to tempt fate and ask Gwaine if he remembered anything funny about that night.
"Gaius said I might find you out here," Gwaine said without preamble. "You've been avoiding me, Merlin, and I wonder why?" he continued with false confusion.
Of course Gwaine remembered what he saw, Merlin thought defeatedly. That was just his luck. Merlin let out a deep breath and slowly got to his feet, trying to avoid Gwaine's eye.
"Courage, strength, and magic. Mighty strange necessities for a quest. Me? I prefer food and water, a nice bed roll, and maybe a little ale too... Magic, though, not something that I would have put on a packing list for a quest. Especially not a quest involving the prince of Camelot..."
Merlin's face paled at Gwaine's seemingly casual ramblings and he opened his mouth to protest, but Gwaine went on.
"Not to mention all the strange stuff that happens whenever you're on patrol with us. Did you know that when you're there when bandits attack us, half of them trip or develop slippery fingers or lose their pants or the tree branches all suffer a sudden rot? But nothing like that happens when you're not there. The way that Lamia screamed her head off whenever you tried to touch her? And the Dorocha?! No one else thawed out, not a single one. Just you. You are either the luckiest man in all the five kingdoms or you're hiding something."
Again, Merlin opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Gwaine smiled mischievously.
"Did you really think that I hadn't suspected at least a little something curious about you my friend? Seeing that goblet move was just the first real proof I've had. I may play the fool, but I am far from stupid. Of course, you'd know all about that sort of thing, wouldn't you?"
"Why didn't you say anything?" Merlin asked shakily, finally finding his voice.
"Well, I was hoping that you would say something. Lance knew, didn't he?"
"Yes, he did."
"Why didn't you tell me?" Gwaine almost sounded hurt.
"Because I don't like to ask my friends to commit treason. Lancelot only found out by accident."
"Fair enough, I suppose. Though I'm not much of one for following rules, you know."
"No, you're not," Merlin said, smiling cautiously. "I don't suppose I am, either."
"Only when it suits you, eh?"
"Something like that," Merlin agreed, looking nervously at the knight and fidgeting in place. Understanding dawned in Gwaine's eyes.
"Arthur doesn't know, then, I presume."
"No, and you can't say anything..." Merlin's eyes widened. "Damn! I'm going to be even more late now. Come visit me later, I'll be in the stocks, I'm sure!" With that, Merlin took off running again, leaving a chuckling Gwaine to follow more sedately in his wake.
Twenty minutes later, Merlin skidded to a halt just outside Arthur and Gwen's chambers. It had been quite the whispered scandal amongst the gentry for the king and queen to share rooms. As a commoner, Gwen found the idea of separate rooms wasteful and ridiculous, thus the queen had convinced Arthur that it would be much more sensible to share. Arthur, not surprisingly, hadn't been very hard to convince. However, it did make things a bit more time consuming for Merlin. Checking everything was still upright on the tray, Merlin took a deep breath and knocked two firm knocks, followed momentarily by one more. Having his own unique knock made things much less embarrassing for all parties.
"Come in, Merlin," Arthur called. Merlin cringed briefly at the king's tone then plastered his widest grin and burst into the room.
"Morning, your majesties!" he called.
"Please don't call me that!" Gwen moaned from her seat at the table. Merlin simply grinned at her as he set the tray down and started to set the plates in front of them.
"What did you do?" Arthur asked, suspicion clearly in his gaze.
"Nothing! Whatever makes you think I've done something?!"
"Let's see, you're late, you're out of breath, and you never call me 'your majesty' unless you're feeling guilty, therefore, you have done something. Should I tell the guards to prepare the stocks? I bet cook's got something rotten in the root cellar."
"Arthur, we will not put Merlin in the stocks," Gwen scolded while slicing her sausages. Merlin beamed triumphantly at his best friend. Arthur pouted like a petulant child.
"Well then, at least explain to me why you were more than an hour late?" Arthur asked, both eyebrows raising in question.
"It wasn't my fault!" Merlin immediately defended himself. At Arthur's eye roll, Merlin hurried to explain. "Gaius sent me out for alder bark, horehound and wolfsbane at the crack of dawn! Do you know how far into the forest you have to go to find where wolfsbane is?"
"It took you nearly four hours to gather three herbs?" Arthur asked incredulously.
"Did you not hear the bit about far out in the forest? Of course you didn't. Anyways, while I was out there, in the depths of the forest, I had a little visit." Merlin pulled the scroll that he had luckily managed to remember to pull out of the burlap herb sack and held it out to Arthur.
"What is this?"
"My last will and testament," Merlin offered dryly. "Why don't you open it and find out?"
Arthur glared at him but pulled the scroll from Merlin's hands and looked more closely at it; especially its seal.
"This is a druid symbol," he said, eyeing Merlin questioningly.
"Very good, sire."
Arthur narrowed his eyes once more. Merlin simply put on his cheekiest grin. The king cracked the wax seal and carefully unfurled the parchment, leaning forward in earnest as his eyes scanned down the page.
"This is a request for a meeting to discuss a peace treaty," Arthur said, handing the scroll to an interested Gwen as he looked incredulously at his manservant.
"Yes, Arthur," Merlin said, all traces of teasing gone.
"In just a fortnight, in the Darkling woods! That's not much time. Who should I bring on this mission?"
"Might I suggest those from the Round table?" Gwen interjected sensibly.
"I'll need a strong leader to stay here, and keep the council in line," Arthur said, looking at Gwen pointedly.
"Me?! What can I possibly do? I've been Queen for a week!"
"By this time, you'll have been queen for three," Arthur said, gesturing to the scroll. "Besides that, from what Geoffrey says, it wouldn't be the first time you put the council in their place. While still a serving girl, no less." Gwen blushed at Arthur's obvious pride. The king smiled and reached out to stroke his queen's cheek lovingly.
"You could do it, Gwen," Merlin agreed, breaking the newlyweds from the private moment.
"Well then, Merlin, seeing as you were the one to bring this to my attention, you can plan and prepare provisions for five for the journey. In addition to myself and you, we'll take Leon, Gwaine and Percival."
"Not Elyan?" Merlin asked, curiously.
"Normally yes, but I want him to stay in the Citadel to ensure Guinevere's safety and offer her support with the council. This must be kept secret; we will go under the guise of a hunting trip. I will not have anyone undermine this opportunity," Arthur replied.
Merlin nodded solemnly and gave a small but respectful bow and a smile to the two royals before he turned on his heel and left the room. He couldn't help but feel a little lightheaded and giddy. Destiny was hurtling towards them faster than Merlin could imagine.
"Please be safe," Guinevere murmured into Arthur's shoulder. Merlin stood a few feet away, discreetly checking the girth straps and saddle bags on the horses that were waiting in the courtyard.
"I will be perfectly safe. I'll have three of my best knights with me, and I have been known to be fairly competent with a sword," Arthur teased, though he was quick to seal his promise with a kiss.
"Even still. Take this with you and remember me before you do anything stupid," Gwen said, tying her kerchief around the king's right arm.
"I'll keep him safe, Gwen," Merlin chimed in, causing Arthur to roll his eyes.
"As if a scrawny manservant could protect the king of Camelot," Arthur teased good-naturedly as Leon, Gwaine and Percival strode down the steps and to their mounts.
"I've told you before, Prat. You don't know how many times I've saved your life," Merlin said, with a teasing grin. Arthur rolled his eyes, but returned the grin. Though loath to admit it, Arthur knew for a fact that Merlin had saved his life more times than he was sure he could remember. The knights chuckled appreciatively at the banter between the two friends.
"Are you sure you can handle this trip? I know how the thought of magic makes you jumpy."
Merlin scowled, causing Leon and Percival to grin behind their gloved hands. Gwaine, however, was nearly bent double, he was laughing so hard. Arthur, Gwen, and the rest of the gathered knights looked at him with a raised eyebrow. Merlin looked at the chortling knight in disbelief.
"Sorry," Gwaine apologized, still trying to control his mirth. "It was just funny, that's all."
Merlin rolled his eyes at Gwaine, though not for the reason everyone else assumed. Then his face brightened. Merlin wasn't sure if those without magic could hear thoughts directed at them, but he decided to try it and see if he could give Gwaine a little friendly prod. With one last wave, they all pulled themselves into their saddles and turned their horses about, heading towards the city gates.
"Could you possibly be more obvious, Gwaine?"
Said knight turned wide eyes on the warlock . Merlin smiled innocently at Gwaine, who, judging by his gobsmacked expression, heard Merlin's message loud and clear. The stunned knight shrugged helplessly, as though to say, I couldn't help myself!
"Just remember who packed the provisions," Merlin added. "It would be a shame to lose your bedroll and your stash of mead."
Gwaine's eyes widened comically, then he whispered, "You wouldn't dare!"
Merlin raised an eyebrow in a perfect imitation of his mentor.
"Of course I wouldn't! Though I do hear that plenty of gear goes missing on such rough travel routes, especially when the traveler in question has such a loose tongue."
Gwaine was, for once, speechless. The warlock laughed joyfully as he kicked his horse to move faster and took his place on Arthur's right side.
Several times throughout the morning, Merlin caught Gwaine looking at him with narrowed eyes and a wrinkled forehead. The warlock had to wonder when Gwaine would realize that without magic, his efforts to mentally communicate were completely useless. The thought made him grin widely.
Just before mid-day, Arthur called for a halt before a wide brook, running higher than normal after the spring melt.
"Merlin," Arthur called.
"What?" Merlin asked, stifling his grin when Arthur rolled his eyes.
"Did Iseldir tell you anything about where their camp was within the forest?" Arthur asked. "We're deep enough into the woods that I had hoped that we would have seen signs of their encampment by now.
Merlin's eyes widened at Arthur's unexpected question. He hadn't thought of how he was supposed to explain his innate knowledge of where the druids were camped. He didn't think that Arthur would appreciate the truth, that he had simply planned on following their magic like a hunter tracked their quarry.
"Yes," he improvised quickly, shifting anxiously in his saddle. "He said I would just know when we got here."
"Is that something every magic user says?"
"What?! I don't know. Why would I know? Why are you asking me?" Merlin rambled. Arthur looked at his manservant as though he had suddenly sprouted a third arm.
"I don't know why I bother to ask you anything," Arthur taunted. "Regardless of your general ineptitude, Morgause said the same when I went to meet her. Turned out my ruddy horse knew the way, remember?"
"Are you comparing me to a horse?"
"Don't be stupid, Merlin."
Said warlock grinned at successfully distracting Arthur from his question.
"We'll break for lunch here," Arthur decided, dismounting from his saddle and leading his horse to a tree to tether the mare on a low branch. Merlin and the knights followed his lead, taking the opportunity to drink and eat some dried meat and fruit from their packs.
"Waterskins?" Merlin asked as he made the rounds, gathering them from everyone to refill them in the brook.
"I'll help you," Gwaine volunteered, earning himself more than one look of disbelief.
"Who are you and what have you done with Gwaine?" Percival asked, tossing his water skin at his fellow knight's head.
"What?! I help!" Gwaine protested.
"Of course you do," Leon said, his voice solemn, but his face revealing his mirth. Gwaine just grumbled and took off after Merlin, who had already knelt down about ten yards upstream to avoid the area where they had all washed their hands and faces after their long ride.
"Here," Gwaine said, dropping his and Percival's water skin beside the three that Merlin had just finished filling.
"By all means, fill them up," Merlin chuckled, securing the cap on the last water skin in his hands.
"You don't use you know what to fill them?" Gwaine asked, bending to his task.
"I'm not an idiot, Gwaine, no matter what Arthur says," Merlin scoffed.
"Sorry," Gwaine said, raising his eyebrows. "It's just that I'm not sure how this works. What exactly do you use your powers on, if not to make your chores easier?"
"Usually for saving Arthur, Camelot, you lot," Merlin teased.
"Why can't you hear me when I think at you?"
"Because you don't have magic," Merlin answered."
"Then why can I hear you?"
"Because I do have magic," Merlin mentally replied, grinning at the indignation on Gwaine's face and reveling at having said those words to someone who didn't want to kill him, even if they were just mind speech.
"That's just not fair, mate," Gwaine grumbled. The warlock merely laughed and stood to return the waterskins to their owners. As he and Gwaine rejoined the group, Arthur ordered them back into their saddles, leading the way as they all mounted up and moved to cross the stream.
"So where are we going?" Leon asked, guiding his horse to Arthur's left side as they gained the bank on the other side of the water. Both men looked expectantly at Merlin who began to fidget in his seat. Merlin looked around as if expecting the answer to be posted on a nearby tree trunk, and finding none, took a deep breath and closed his eyes, feeling for any source of magic nearby.
"This way," he said, kicking his horse into motion without a backwards glance. Arthur raised his eyebrows and shared a bewildered look with Leon.
"Shouldn't we follow?" Percival asked, ever sensible.
"Of course. Let's go," Arthur said, following his friend deeper into the woods. Arthur could only hope that Merlin really did know where the hell he was going.
Merlin, much to Arthur's annoyance, didn't say anything else. He rode on about ten yards in front of the group, occasionally pausing and redirecting his horse incrementally. When the forest became too dense and treacherous for the horses, they left them hobbled in a small clearing and continued on foot.
"It's not much farther now," Merlin murmured.
"How are you doing this?" Arthur asked, bewildered.
"It's like the druid said, Merlin would just know," Gwaine offered, shrugging when Arthur looked at him with a raised brow.
"It's what Merlin said the druid said!" Gwaine repeated. Arthur rolled his eyes and walked a little faster to catch up to Merlin.
At last, Merlin halted, closed his eyes and tilted his head slightly as though he were hearing something in the distance. Arthur stared at his manservant in growing bewilderment. Even for Merlin, this was unusual behavior.
Gowan, come help mother... My turn, my turn... What a lovely bloom you've grown... Glyniss, run ahead... time to prepare supper... This has been a good season.
Merlin could hear the mental whispers of the druid camp. It reminded the warlock of the time Mordred and Alvarr had come to seek Morgana's assistance in stealing the Crystal of Neahtid. Except that this was a conglomeration of happy voices; children playing magical games together, mothers calling for their children, and neighbors visiting in harmony. It was almost pleasant. Certainly a far cry from the discomfort he had felt when Mordred had mentally spoken to him when the boy had been in Camelot.
"This way," Merlin repeated, opening his eyes and striding confidently towards a slight rise in the distance, just to the right of the company. Arthur and his knights looked to one another for a moment and shrugged, deciding to catch up to the gangly manservant who had just disappeared over the top of the hill. Arthur, Leon, Gwaine and Percival had just started to climb the incline when they heard children shouting.
"Emrys!"
"Emrys has come!"
"He is here!"
"Emrys!"
"Emrys!"
Arthur paused at the top of the hill and nearly fell down in shock. There at the bottom of the hill lay a little valley, dotted with crude tents and wooden huts that blended into the woods around them. There were several cooking fires burning with women tending to them while preparing the midday meal. Flags and unmistakably magical totems hung from low tree branches. It was definitely the druid camp. The largest gathering of the peaceful people that Arthur or the knights had ever seen.
However, that was not what had Arthur ready to fall over. That honor belonged to the sight at the bottom of the hill on the edge of the camp. There stood Merlin, surrounded by druid children, each of them trying to climb on him and hug him. Though most shocking of all were the parents of the children who had come running at the sound of their children's ecstatic voices. They were falling to their knees. In front of Merlin. As though he were a king. More and more druids came through the maze of tents and trees and gasped at the sight of Arthur's manservant; some simply nodded their heads respectfully. Others bowed and still more knelt on one knee. Merlin was reaching out to the children, ruffling their hair and laughing at their exuberance.
"Emrys, we've been waiting for you," a young girl said, awe clearly manifested in her expression. Merlin hadn't yet noticed the adults on the periphery. Neither had he realized that Arthur and the knights had already crested the hill. Otherwise, he may have been less surprised by what happened next.
"Emrys?" Percival choked out, white-faced and staring at Merlin as though he were an entirely different person. "Merlin, did they just call you Emrys?"
Leon was staring, open-mouthed. Gwaine was smiling, but he too looked confused. Arthur opened his mouth to speak, but found he couldn't utter a thing. The king recovered sufficiently enough to clear his throat rather loudly.
"Merlin?!" Arthur finally managed. "What the hell is going on?"
At the king's question, Merlin froze ramrod-straight and hung his head in defeat. Arthur's words were like a bucket of icy water dumped over Merlin's head. The warlock had been entirely surprised when he had started down the hill and had been besieged by druid children. At first, he hadn't known why they had all recognized him; not every magic user or druid possessed the ability to know him on sight. Freya hadn't known, nor had Aglain. Only Iseldir and Mordred had ever known exactly who Merlin was. He couldn't be certain whether Alator had known because of Gaius or if he too would have recognized him as Emrys on sight. Morgana and Morgause had certainly never recognised him for who he was.
"Merlin?! Are you listening?! What is going on?!" Arthur asked again.
"I can explain," Merlin answered feebly.
"Yes, please do explain. Who is this Emrys that these people have been waiting for?" Arthur asked impatiently. Merlin could see Arthur taking deep, slow breaths. He was grateful that Arthur had grown so much over the years. Before, Arthur was more likely to storm over to his manservant and take him by the shoulders and shake him than he was to calmly ask for an explanation. The druids surrounding Merlin silently returned to their duties in the camp. The parents ushered their children away, sensing the monumental event that was moments away from taking place.
"Why did they call you Emrys?" Leon asked, staring at Merlin in confusion.
"Yes, tell us Merlin." Arthur ordered. He couldn't remove his gaze from his friend's back.
"It is time, Emrys."
Merlin looked up at the mental contact. Iseldir stood several feet away; when Merlin met his eye, the Druid elder gave a respectful nod of his head and stepped forward.
"This day was foretold," the druid leader told Merlin privately. The warlock gave an almost imperceptible nod. Then Iseldir turned towards Arthur and spoke aloud. "We meet again, Arthur Pendragon. I am Iseldir, chieftain of my clan."
"I am honored by your invitation here today," Arthur answered tersely, struggling to maintain a regal, kingly manner. Iseldir's eyes seemed to bore through Arthur's soul, and the king shifted on his feet like he hadn't done since he was waist high to his father.
"You are troubled," Iseldir stated, knowingly. "Before we discuss what brought you here, perhaps you would prefer to explore these matters with your friends on the other side of the hill? There you will be afforded privacy."
"Yes, I think that best. Merlin?" Arthur voiced it as a question, but Merlin could not deny the order within the query.
Merlin nodded, turning around to see Arthur and the knights already climbing back up the rise. Taking a shaky breath, he followed them back the way they had come, hoping that when all was said and done, he could still claim these men as friends.
A/N: Reviews are appreciated.
