Chapter Twelve
Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin.
"Sometimes," Gwaine said loudly, "I'm really happy we spent so much time staring at maps of Albion, because otherwise we really wouldn't have a clue where we are in relation to what existed back then."
From the front of the line of eight riders, Arthur let out a rather dramatic sigh. "Honestly, Gwaine, I thought you'd grown out of your mindless chatter long ago."
"Come on, Princess, let me relive my reckless youth!"
Even Arthur laughed at that.
Besides Arthur and Gwaine, Leon, Percival, Lancelot, Haralda, Elen, and Cleva had set out three mornings previously to find the Lake of Avalon, and, by extension, Excalibur. Elyan, with his old-fashioned blacksmith's skills, had been deemed too important to leave Anglesey for who knew how long, and though Gwen expressed an interest in going on the quest, she'd decided that she should stay and keep an eye on the ruling council in Arthur's stead.
The twins hadn't been pleased about being left behind on such an adventure, but Gwaine had reminded them, "Someone in the family needs to look out for Hertha. And besides, you two are still pretty young in a lot of ways and will be for a while. It's my and Elen's job to make sure you stay as safe as possible. By definition, quests are not safe."
On the other hand, Elen hadn't wanted to go. She'd only agreed when Gaius had pointed out that, "Retrieving the sword may require the use of magic. Who else here is more qualified in that area than you?"
Despite the earthquake-torn landscape of southwest England, the length of time required to make the trip had been shortened considerably by riding. Several of the horses kept by the people on Anglesey weren't trained for farm work, and as Arthur had insinuated to most that the quest was primarily to look for more supplies and survivors, borrowing a few hadn't been an issue. However, between convincing other people that the trip was a good idea and making necessary preparations, it had taken almost three weeks after their initial meeting to actually depart.
The weather had been mostly gray and drizzly so far, yet Gwaine had found himself in a good mood more often than not. The outside temperature remained very moderate despite the moisture. They hadn't run across anything more dangerous than crevasses and some distant wolves, and even the modern-day ruins they passed were softened by the plant life already growing over them. And although he hadn't spoken to her by himself, he'd seen Haralda talking with Elen several times, and they seemed to be getting along just fine.
"You should talk to her, too," Cleva said as they road side-by-side shortly after the exchange about maps and mindless chatter. "I know for a fact that Hertha and Elwin visited with her on multiple occasions before we left; only Everard's holding out."
"Yeah, because Everard's taking after Harlan a lot more than he used to." Gwaine sighed. "You're right, Cleva, I should talk to her, but...You weren't there. She literally just took off after our her mum and dad and ours...Aldwyn...Alan was already gone, and she disappeared one day, texting me and Elen once, basically saying that she 'couldn't handle it.' And that was it. She was an adult at the time, they were her siblings...but me and my sister had to be their parents after that. We would've helped her, of course. Yet she wouldn't help us. She wouldn't even call." He patted his horse's neck, trying and failing to calm down. "The twins took it hard, and Hertha...just Heidi then...she was still a little girl. She was already traumatized enough."
"I'd think you were all badly hurt," Cleva said gently. "I know what it's like to lose parents."
"Yes, you do," Gwaine said heavily. "I just...Haralda didn't have to deal with anyone's trauma but her own. Elen and I...we had to. And we did. So I...I guess I'm still angry that she just up and abandoned us for years."
"Sounds familiar, doesn't it?"
His lips turning into a faint smile, Gwaine looked over at his wife and said, "Yeah. It sounds familiar." Then, "I'm glad you wanted to come along. I've been getting accustomed to your company."
"Well, you lot needed someone who can turn meager rations into a decent meal. I'm fairly sure that, say, Arthur didn't learn to cook in this life, either."
"Absolutely true, but come on, the rest of us aren't that bad!"
The next morning, Gwaine moved his horse close to Haralda's as they were saddling up. "Hey."
"Hey." She wouldn't meet his gaze.
Almost steeling himself, he ventured, "I had a dream last night...about the old days."
She glanced at him. "In Camelot?"
"Nah, before that. When we were kids." Before I found something I couldn't handle and ran off. "You, me, Aldwyn...We had a lot of fun, didn't we?"
Her lips twisted into a half-smile. "Mostly you and Aldwyn. But yeah, we had fun."
He was about to respond when she turned to face him directly. "I'm sorry I left all of you," she said bluntly, "it was a damn rotten thing to do and I don't expect forgiveness. But in a way I'm happy I left. I...I was in a very dark place for a while, and I...I'm glad you and Elen didn't have to deal with that on top of the kids. Let's just say it was a good thing I found Percival when I did." She finally met his gaze. "And I think I understand you a little better. Guilt...it can be a strong motivator for not doing something."
Gwaine swallowed. She held on to a lot of Hannah when she got her memories back. "Yeah, it really can be."
They didn't get any longer to talk, as Arthur started yelling about getting an early start. "We can make it to the lake before dark if we get going!"
Everyone got quieter as they approached the area where they believed the Lake of Avalon had once been: a section of rolling hills in Shropshire. It was really a quite lovely place, even with so many of the foliage-thick hillsides split by earthquake-caused scars. However, the damage seemed minimal, at least until…
"Well," Arthur said, cresting a small rise and pulling up abruptly; his horse snorted in protest. "Somehow I didn't expect that."
According to the local map they'd picked up in the abandoned market town of Church Stretton, they should have gone up a narrow valley between two hills and arrived at a small lake that was possibly man-made or at least altered, bound by concrete and road. They'd agreed that it was "a place to start."
But what they saw now didn't match the map at all.
The hills on either side had crumbled, leaving the valley wider for at least a mile, with stepper walls thickly coated in climbing vines and other plants. Any trees that had died in the process had seemingly been replaced by many others, most already full-grown. Around the edge of the apparently expanded lake, a wide band of meadow grasses grew, interspersed with a rainbow of wildflowers that filled the air with sweet scents. The water glittered like crystal as a soft breeze rippled it, and no sign remained in the vicinity of any human disturbance whatsoever.
"It's beautiful," Cleva breathed. "So beautiful."
"This whole spot is saturated in powerful magic," Elen said, "I can feel it."
"Makes sense," Leon commented, then no one spoke for a while. Remaining mounted, they just soaked in the view, the smells, the pure beauty of a place the old magic had so thoroughly reclaimed.
Pity it couldn't do that without killing so many people.
After they did stop looking and dismounedt, they left the horses in the meadow and approached the water's edge with some caution. "It looks very different from before," Lancelot said. "I know I shouldn't have a clear memory, but...It's very different."
"I think we can all agree at this point that magic works in mysterious ways," Percival said with a grin.
Ignoring this, Arthur turned to Elen. "What now?"
"Give me a minute." Once Elen had stared at the lake for a bit, she said, "Your presence hasn't activated any sort of response."
"Maybe the sword's not here anymore," Haralda said unhelpfully. Gwaine gave her a look, and she made a face in return.
"So do a spell or something!" Arthur sounded very much like his impatient younger self for a moment. "That's why you're here, right?"
Rolling her eyes, Elen stepped up to the water's edge, muttering, "Do a spell or something, he says," and gazed out again over the lake. Everyone else, remembering magic incidents of old, backed up a few feet as she lifted her hands and began to chant a spell in an ancient tongue, the words "Arthur Pendragon" included among the rest. The wind seemed to pick up for a few seconds in response, but nothing else happened as she finished the chant and lowered her hands.
"Okay then," Arthur said as the sorceress turned around. "Is that all you have?"
"Merlin was right; you're a complete prat at times." Elen rubbed her temples. "Give me another minute and I'll try a different…"
Anyone who had their eyes on the lake at that moment let out startled noises and reached for weapons as the water at the lake's center began to bubble. Large ripples spread out from the disturbance, making small waves that splashed loudly against the shore.
"Move up!" Arthur shouted unnecessarily; everyone was already backing quickly away from the water. Meanwhile, the strange boiling patch in the lake began to move towards them. When it reached the shallows, something began to emerge from it, still approaching.
No, not something. That's a someone.
Black, flowing hair. A dress of rich purple and blue. Wide, dark eyes. And a gleaming, gold-and-silver sword held in her hand.
She halted with her feet still in the water, smiling when no one spoke or made a move. "Welcome to the Lake of Avalon." Her gaze came to rest on Arthur. "The Once and Future King. It's been a long time since we last met."
Arthur took a careful step forward. "I'm sorry, but I...I don't recall ever meeting you."
"It was for a very short time, during which you landed the blow that ended my mortal life." Her expression grew sad. "You did what you had to, to protect your people. I hold no ill will towards you for ending my old existence, which was more of a nightmare than not."
It hit Gwaine around the same time it seemed to hit Arthur. A woman who became a monster at night and who Arthur killed. Merlin was known to say that the lake always made him feel closer to her… "You're Freya."
She inclined her head in conformation.
"I am so sorry," Arthur said, voice shaking. "I...Merlin told me years later...I wish there had been another way…"
"It was forgiven long ago." Lifting the sword, Freya continued, "This belongs to you." She held it out to Arthur. "I've been keeping it safe for centuries."
"I...Thank you." The king took the sword hesitantly. "Do you know...We've been looking for Merlin, hoping he turns up...If you know anything…"
"I know he's alive, and that soon, he will return to help fulfill your destiny, to create Albion anew." Freya looked sad again. "It's a shame that the world had to come to this, with so much suffering...There is still a war ahead." She looked over the entire group. "It won't be easy. But together, you can prevail."
Another war. Personally, I was hoping for...not that.
"Thank you," Arthur said again. "If there's anything I can do for you…"
Suddenly, the Lady of the Lake was smiling again. "When Merlin returns, tell him to come visit me if he gets the chance. I've missed him."
And with that, Freya returned to the depths of the Lake of Avalon, leaving the group on the shore with a shiny sword...and a little more hope for the return of Emrys.