It took for what seemed like ages for him to get back up again. Kilgharrah helped him back to his feet. Mouthing what he's sure are encouraging words, but he can't hear. Winter would come, and they were far from starting the process of surviving.
He takes to visiting Thomdeg -who has begun gathering materials and planning the building layouts- if he needed help with anything. The first building that needed to be built as soon as possible was the food storage for winter, and renovating the Castle to be a better fit for winter.
How large the food storage would depend on how large of a population they had, which shamefully he wasn't quite sure how to do, but Thomdeg was too busy organizing and making plans to do it himself. Merlin knew one person who could help him.
He asks around in the bustle of the town, sidestepping large carts of stone and logs, being directed to a natural hollowed out tree on the edge of the forest. It seemed that this forest was centuries year old at times instead of a few months. A twined stick door resting in the front. He heard laughter from the inside and stopped short.
He nearly turned back before the door swung open and Grettir stilled him with a smirk. "Don't run away on my account."
He huffed, playing it off. "I was going to knock."
"Sure you were." He drawled, "You need something?"
"Didn't want to bother you, and I'm sure I can handle it."
Grettir rolled his eyes and opened the door wider. "Come in already."
He walked in with some reluctance, nearly missing the top of the door with his forehead. Being lead down a staircase to a rounded room with branching off doors. Inside was rather quaint, warm lit candles adorned on small shelves scattered throughout the area. A little girl, smaller than half of the chair, waved at him before quickly dashing away.
Grettir merely shakes his head, smiling warmly. "Sorry, my niece is a little shy."
The boy sighs, it's too late to take it back now. "I need help for the upcoming winter. I'm not sure where to start making sure everyone has enough food."
He bows, his lip twitching up. Most likely at the discomfort in his face. "Of course, My King. I am always here to help you."
They begin counting everyone they can, visiting and writing down the families and growing population for some wiggle room. He and Grettir would meet at the end of the day, combining the numbers. A few days afterward, with a handful of houses already built by the dwarfs, they had a total of 627 people. Most of them were the dwarfs, who were hidden away when the purge happened. All he can do is hope the rest of the druids make it till spring.
Night had fallen, and Grettir bid him goodnight. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't sleep. There was still too much to be done. Next was figuring out what types of food they had, and how much they would need to put away.
As he sits on the bed, chewing his thumb and staring intensely at the paper in his hand. There was no way he was going to be able to sleep with how keyed up he was. So he gathers more papers to begin listing the types of food plants they had.
Yet as he scoured the forest, plants that shouldn't even be in Europe grew wildly, and in full bloom; Avocados, Beans, Chia, Potatoes, tomatoes, cranberries, and even chocolate. Not including wheat, rice, barley, and oats that grew like wildfire. All wilting under the cold, yet somehow being preserved by the frost that coats it.
Daylight broke at the end of the list, and he rushed to find Isledir's tent. The world goes by in a blur, and before he knows it he's in front of it. Pulling the curtain aside and yelping as he trips, face-planting to the ground.
"...Merlin…?" A groggy voice greets him, and he feels a flicker of shame for a moment before he gets up to his knees. Iseldir's grey hair is fluffed into a wild nest, tired lines wrinkling at the edges of his eyes as he squints in the morning light.
"Can magic bring plants from other places."
The man blinks and blinks again. "Huh?"
Merlin fumbles with the paper, setting it down to the ground and pointing. "Look. We have the types of plants that we are used to, such as wheat and rice right? But when I actually looked, there were things that shouldn't even be here."
Iselidr glances at the paper then sighs. "Emrys, I can't read."
He freezes. Staring at him for a moment before tucking the paper in his pocket. "Forgive me. I didn't realize." It's a heavy realization, one that's more prominent when it shows up in reality than actually knowing it. Even Iselidr wouldn't have an answer for him should he ask. They don't know that there are other places out there, besides Europe. To them, this is their whole world.
"Have you come for your lesson this morning?"
Merlin clenches his hands but shakes his head. "No, not this morning. I need something from you if you don't mind."
"Of course. What do you need?"
Merlin begins explaining how they needed to gather food for the upcoming winter since the dwarfs were already building. He nodded, and they stepped out of the tent to begin organizing groups to harvest and preserve plants.
As they did, a commotion drew their eyes to a wide circle of a crowd surrounding middle. The crowd separated in a clear distinction of dwarfs and druids. Throwing glowering sneers at each other, and cheering. They shared a worried look before striding over.
At their approach, most quieting and parting to reveal a woman in grey robes and a thinner dwarf man are screaming at each other.
"How dare you!"
"Excuse me, little miss? Are you saying that you don't want to live?
"We have survived just fine without doing such a monstrous thing!"
With a snarl, the dwarf attacks the druid. Everyone around them steps away, fists being thrown as the women struggle to get a leg up. No one seems to want to stop it, too distracted at cheering them on or begging them to stop. Until Thomdeg is the first to reach them, pulling the other dwarf off with little struggle, do they grow completely silent.
"What's the meaning of this?"
Fumingly, the druid women brushes off her clothes as the dwarf man snarls at her with his reply. Being restrained from launching at her again. "She called us Monsters! I won't stand for it!"
She pouts, tilting her chin up and crossing her arms. "I did no such thing. I only said that we, unlike you, do not slaughter animals for food. Nor do we leave a trail of destruction wherever we go."
"Oh yeah? I'd like to see you live until the next summer. Ain't going to do that in that piece of cloth you call a home."
She scowls, raising her hand with the promise of death. "That's it!"
Merlin snatches her wrist in a tight grip, the magic fizzing at her palms sputtering out. Hot, bubbling anger surfaces in his stomach, even as he keeps a gentle grip. Everyone is deathly silent, gaping at him with fear and awe. After a tense moment, he drops her hand and lets her scramble away. He can't imagine what he looks like if everyone is staring at him like that. "Do I need to remind you why you are here?" A few faces turn away, looking ashamed, but most are still sulky or sour.
Merlin glares, "It seems that I must since you are acting like children. We are here, to build a better life for ourselves. A life that doesn't need us to hide away in fear of being hunted, or murdered for what we are." This makes many shift uncomfortably, avoiding his piercing stare. "I will make this clear: I will not tolerate any fighting. We can not afford to be divided in the face of our enemies."
Merlin draws a long breath, shoulders slumping down. Voice turning compassionate. "However, I feel like this will be a future problem. Next time, please come to your leaders if you have a problem with how we are running things. Iseldir, Thomdeg? Would you accompany me to discuss a solution?"
The dwarven leader gives a curt nod, cuffing the back of the smaller dwarfs head. All it takes is a look for the women to sulkily stomp to her tent. Merlin turns to Aglain and Carey. "Please, come get us if any more outbreaks occur."
Turning to the Castle after Carey bows pleasantly. He was hoping that he would not need to use the room in the Castle so soon, but need requires necessity. Up the stairs to the second floor, is a single rounded room, stretching wall to wall. In the middle Is an old rectangular table, chairs resting on every side of the table. On each long side of the table in the walls, are two rustic grey fireplaces.
As he sits at the very end of the table, grinning at Thomdeg slightly above the tall table. "I didn't think you would make this room so soon."
"Well, I didn't think you'd use it for a talkin' room." The bearded man chuckles, settling down in a chair made perfectly for him. The remaining chair, across from the dwarven leader, fits perfectly for Iseldir, who throws him a curious flash.
Merlin smiles cheekily in response. "I wanted to have a place where everyone could feel heard. If there's anything that needs to be said, we will talk about it here. So, Let us begin. Can you tell me what could have caused this?"
Iseldir and Thomdeg glance at each other with unease. The druid leader inclines his head. "Yes, but I had thought my people would respect each other more for our differences, especially after what we've gone through."
The dwarf huffs in agreement, propping his feet on the table and folding his finger behind his head. "Yeah. Thought they would be kinder, but they're a bit on edge with the move and work. They can get a bit stir crazy."
Merlin shifts, straightening his spine to see properly. "What can do to prevent further outbreaks? I want every person being welcomed into my Kingdom to be comfortable, and most importantly, heard."
Thomdeg chuckles, having Merlin raise a brow at him in curiosity. "No offense Emrys, but I think we're both more than willing to do that."
The dark-headed boy gives a tight, but genuine smile. The age in his eyes giving him an endlessly aged impression to him. "It never hurts to be clear."
Iseldir sits forward, folding his fingers together in front of him, leaning on his elbows. "Indeed. I think we all could find some middle ground."
"Well if we're startin' off, there have been some weird things happpenin' to my folk. Odd appearin' meals and the like."
The druid nods, "I've heard the same."
Merlin flushes. "Oops." They both turn slowly to him. He can't help the embarrassment that crawls on his puffy cheeks. "I meant to tell you… I guess I forgot. Uh… Wobilnocks?"
Both seemed stunned, and jump out of their skins when one appears on the table, happily bouncing on its heels. "King Emrys called?" The longer they don't say anything, the more Merlin fidgets in his set.
Then the redhead rolls his eyes, grunting. "What else did I expect. We'll tell everyone after that their bein' cared for by the Wobilnocks."
This shakes Iseldir out of his shock. "Yes, Of course. We'll tell them. They'll be delighted."
Then they began the long process of ironing out the details. One thing he's never been envious of in diplomatic meetings. Once an agreement was met, both Iseldir and Thomdeg left the room, he could only groan and slump down onto the table. His back was aching from sitting up straight and his jaw hurts from speaking so much.
They're cultures they had varied differently. The druids were more or less vegetarians, and wouldn't kill animals unless they needed too, but the Dwarfs relied heartily on meat when their food would grow rotten and they couldn't trade to get more. Dwarfs would use all the material they could to build their weapons, but druids had only used the bare minimum they couldn't regrow almost instantly.
So they came to a sort of… compromise.
Whatever trees would be cut down, two more would be planted in its place. For every animal that was a friend, a litter of them would be made in its place. For the Dwarf materials, everything would be reused to it's best ability but would be scrapped by the druids in a safe location. The treatment of animals is a far touchier subject. The only compromise they could come to was treating the animals with the best respect they deserved before the slaughter. Giving them a proper send-off, and using everything they could from their body as to not waste and disrespect.
It was a start, but it was more than he could ask for. Everyone would be told in the morning. He closes his eyes and breathes through his exhaustion. Something pokes his cheek, and he opens to find a Wobilnock in his vision, tilting its head. "King Emrys need sleep. Have not slept in two days. Wobilnock have food in room, and bed ready."
He picks himself up, and half-heartedly drags himself to his room. After shoveling food into his mouth, he falls into a dreamless sleep.
In the morning, everyone is gathered outside in the Castle courtyard, still half crumbling but most of the damage repaired. What they've agreed on brings few protests from the crowd, but dispersing after all had been said.
Iseldir brought the druids to him, and they all went to the forest so that Merlin could show them how to harvest and preserve the food that they were unfamiliar with. The dwarfs built large pens for the animals they would take care of, settling the chickens, pigs, cows, and sheep separately after herding them from the forest. Everyone taking shifts to work day and night, as no time could be wasted.
That's how the rest of the Autumn went. Waking every morning before the sun to work on storing the food, building homes and the storage, and keeping an eye on the peace. He mostly forgot how to take care of himself if it weren't for the Wobilnocks helping him. Some days he fell asleep outside, only to find himself back in his bed in the morning. Yet even if he found himself unbelievably stressed and tired, things were peaceful. After the changes, everyone worked well together and learned from each other.
When they finished the food storage, he felt proud of the progress they did. Winter would come any day now, but no one would have to worry about starving. They were moving the last piece of preserved food into the rocky storage, and as the last bag was set in and the door closed, cheers ringed brightly in the air.
Everyone was hugging, crying, and so delightedly happy. Everyone had a home, and everyone was safe. Merlin thinks that it was finally settling in for them.
Then one began chanting. "EMRYS! EMRYS." Soon he was bombarded, being thrown on top of the crowd and being settled on someone's tall shoulders. He laughed through his unease as he was taken.
They all moved to the firepit that remained in the middle. A giant metal pot rests over the fire, held up by the rocks. His stomach gurgles for the delicious scent of cooking food. Opened barrels were around the edges of the grassy clearing. From the top he could see a liquid inside, but before he gets a good look he gets settled in front of the fire on a fluffy pillow.
He seems to be sitting at the head of the campfire. Iseldir is sitting on a long stretch of dark blue cloth from his right. Thomdeg sits beside Iseldir, and Aglan and his mother Carey on the other side. Aglan is the first to see him, lighting up and coming over to him with a welcoming hand on his shoulder. "Welcome, Emrys. Please, come sit with us. Be our guest of honor tonight." Merlin tenses under his palm, but willingly goes along.
"Guest of honor? Is this what all this is about?" Aglan hums and sits down on the blue blanket. He reluctantly joins him on what's left of the blanket, just enough room for him to sit comfortably.
"In part. We are celebrating our success, and We've realized that we've been… treating you terribly. You've done nothing but help us, and been generous in your gifts. This is the least we can do."
As Iseldir stood up, everyone quickly went silence and gathered around the fire; sitting with their legs folded underneath. Watchful for them on the blue blanket. Iseldir's voice resonates clearly as he speaks.
"Thank you, for all of you coming. I know times have been rough for many of us. There are still lots of us out there, unable to reach us for the time being. However, we are lucky that Emrys has been so kind to us," Several people turn to Merlin, and he prickles in embarrassment. Warmth rising on the tips of his ears and cheeks.
"But we have been unjustly afraid of him. He has done nothing but give us hope for a better life. I truly believe he will bring magic back to Albon. The balance will be restored, and we will no longer need to run away in fear of our lives. Please, if you could do us the honor of drinking this cup, so our meal will fill us for many days, and the Triple Goddess may bless us."
He gets handed a small cup. His fingers tingle as he holds in, and when he looks inside the liquid is a deep, dark red. He sees his reflection, a neutral, but flushed face. Merlin doesn't see any harm that could come from this, and the druids wouldn't hurt him. He'll take his chances.
The liquid burns as he swallows it. Almost as soon as it hits his tongue, the light of the fire becomes more apparent. Each time the fire rises into the air, he can see the small amounts of thousands of different colors in each spark. The crowd cheers and people begin to gather around a woman who's passing out the soup.
Merlin stares at the fire. Enchanted. Then he looks to the sky. The stars twinkle and wink at him cheerfully. He giggles, feeling playful. The magic inside of him wiggles, and he gives in. Outstretching his hand, he lets the power flow freely.
Golden light dances and swirls out of his fingers. It runs freely in between the druids, who gasp in delight. The children giggle as the gold brushes up against them, shrieking and running as it begins chasing them. A hand on his back takes him back to himself, and he turns.
Carey smirks at him with her gummy mouth. It's not quite that takes his attention away. A faint, a practically invisible light halos around her. "Here deary, eat. You'll need it." His hands become occupied with the bowl and a spoon, and he's reminded of how hungry he is.
With ravenous hunger, he devours the broth. Flavors spark in his mouth with every bite. This, to him, is pure bliss. The bowl becomes empty, and he sets it next to him.
The world blurs and shimmers with community and love.