THIRTY-SEVEN: SOLITUDE (244 days)
Merlin never did get the solitude that he'd wanted. He hadn't gotten more than a few feet from the village of Brookdell before the others had joined him. First it was Gwaine, which really shouldn't have surprised him, yet it did. Then the rest followed. Mordred, Percival, Leon, Elyan. Arthur and Rolan were the last. They all insisted on making camp with him outside of the village.
When Merlin had demanded why they would do such a thing, Arthur had repeated what he had apparently told Madoc. That to disrespect one court member was to disrespect them all. He had then given the village Elder a chance to change his mind, and offer a bed to the Court Sorcerer.
Madoc had remained silent.
So Arthur and the others had joined Merlin, and while he appreciated their support, he really would have rather been alone. They hadn't given him the chance to be alone, not since Kilgharrah's death. He'd barely been given enough privacy to relieve himself, let alone try to think.
Which was probably why, eight days and five villages later, Merlin was hiding. He'd managed to slip away, under the pretense of laying the protection spells around their camp - they were just outside the latest village, and he had received no more hospitality there than he had anywhere else. Only two villages had offered him a bed, and that had only been because their leaders were cowed enough by Arthur's anger. There had been many heated glares sent in Merlin's direction, in every village they had visited. Even when they didn't stay the night inside the town, the villagers were uneasy around the group.
There had been a tenseness in each of these villages that seemed to go beyond a mistrust of magic. Except that Merlin knew that that was a ridiculous thought. The people simply had lost too much at the hands of sorcery, and now they didn't trust it. Merlin was just reading too much into it. He had to be.
He just needed a chance to clear his head, without any of his friends trying to cheer him up. So he found himself a tree to climb. He knew nobody would find him. He was higher than any man could climb without the aid of magic. He'd also walked quite a ways before climbing the tree. Nobody would bother him there.
Finally, he could breathe. He'd felt so…stifled over the past week. His friends had been hovering, trying to encourage him not to take the reactions of the villagers to heart. They meant well, but their presence had become more annoying than reassuring. And Merlin wasn't nearly as upset by the reactions of the villagers as they all seemed to think he was. Yes, it was disheartening to see the fear and the hatred that was directed at him. But he understood why they feared and hated sorcery. And something just seemed off about the glares. He couldn't figure out what.
No, what was upsetting him was Kilgharrah's passing. Of course, the others still had no knowledge of that, besides Mordred. They didn't know what was truly upsetting him.
What made him most upset about it, though, was his own very conflicted emotions. He was both sad and relieved that the Great Dragon was gone. And he felt guilty that he felt relieved. It was slightly confusing.
Kilgharrah had been a creature of magic, kin to Merlin. He had been a dragon, beautiful and majestic and right in the world. He had been a mentor to Merlin. A friend, even, at times. So of course he was going to miss the giant reptile. And Merlin always mourned the loss of life, any life. It was a tragedy.
But Kilgharrah had manipulated Merlin on many occasions. Merlin often wondered how much of what he told him was based in fact, and how much was based in the dragon's own biases. How often had he twisted the truth to fit his own needs? And Kilgharrah could be just as ruthless as Uther. He had slaughtered so many innocent lives when Merlin had set him free, all in the name of revenge.
He was arrogant and cryptic and manipulative. He was wise and strong and clever.
And he was gone.
Now, Aithusa was the last of her kind. That burden fell on her young shoulders now. A burden that he understood all too well, being the last Dragonlord. It was a terrible thing, to know that your kind would die with you. Merlin, at least, had a chance of passing on his legacy, were he to ever have a son. But Aithusa...There would never be another dragon.
Movement in the forest below caught his eye, pulling him out of his troubled thoughts. Frowning, Merlin studied the man leaving the village of Lordell. There was something familiar about him, though he couldn't make out the man's face. Merlin was certain he'd seen him before. But he couldn't know for sure from his current spot. All he could see from here was the back of the man as he snuck through the trees, but the way he crept seemed familiar. His build, and even his clothes. Merlin had seen him before, somewhere.
Frowning, Merlin muttered a spell under his breath. "Dieglan fram gesiehp. Dieglan fram hleocjor."
With himself shielded, he climbed down from the tree and rushed after the man. The spell would keep anyone from hearing or seeing him, but he still tried his best to keep to the shadows. It wasn't difficult to do, as the sun was sinking lower and lower in the sky.
He followed the man for nearly twenty minutes, unable to get a look at his face. The stranger was faster than he would have expected. Merlin's frown deepened when they came to a large tent, simple in design, yet obviously made for a noble. It was a deep red color, bordering on burgundy. The man ducked inside.
Deciding not to push his luck, Merlin stood outside. He strained his ears. "Master," a distantly familiar voice began. Where had he heard that obnoxious voice before? "Little King Arthur remains blissfully ignorant. The villagers have not said a word."
"And our soldiers? Is Arthur aware of their presence?"
That voice was familiar as well. Merlin needed to see just who was speaking - and, obviously, plotting. He whispered, though there was no real need for him to stay quiet, "Hawian in dierne."
A portion of the tent wall seemed to shimmer, and then a small rectangle of the fabric became transparent, allowing Merlin to see inside the tent. Even if they looked in his direction - which he knew they wouldn't as they would have no reason to - the two men inside wouldn't see the hole in the fabric.
Merlin's eyes widened. The man he had followed through the trees was none other than Trickler. He stood behind King Alined, who sat at a small chess table. But what were they doing on the outer edges of Camelot, alone? There were no guards near this tent. It was just Alined and Trickler, alone in the middle of the woods. Kings rarely traveled without guards. Arthur was an exception. And even then, he usually traveled with his knights. Very rarely would he just travel with Merlin. It was dangerous for a king to go anywhere without some sort of protection. So what exactly were these two plotting?
Whatever it was, it could be nothing but trouble.
Trickler smirked in his creepy way. The man had always made Merlin uneasy. "They stay out of the way during the day, training in far off fields with the tools of the villagers," he told his king. "They only return to the village at night, to sleep. Lordell has refused to house the sorcerer, as they've been instructed to."
"Good. I would hate to have a repeat of Waterbourne and Orburn. My men were not happy about being forced to sleep on the ground so Arthur and his pets could have beds for the night."
Merlin frowned deeply. Waterbourne and Orburne had been the two villages who had actually provided Merlin with a bed. Did Alined have soldiers stationed in every one of Camelot's outer villages? How had he accomplished that? Surely someone at least one of the villages would have reported this to Arthur.
If Trickler was here, perhaps there was magic involved as well.
The villagers had been acting strange in every village. Merlin had attributed most of it to distrust of magic, though it had seemed rather odd. But if they were secretly housing soldiers of another kingdom…Well, that would make anyone nervous, especially when their own king came to visit. No wonder everyone had been so closed off during their visits. Arthur and his group hadn't stayed more than a few hours in any village at one time - the hostility was much too obvious. Arthur's purpose in coming on this trip was to find out how his subjects felt about the repeal of the laws against magic, and their reactions had made their feelings perfectly clear. Arthur didn't need to stay very long in any one place when the evidence of their hatred was so obvious.
But now, Merlin wasn't sure how much of that hatred was authentic. Had Trickler put the villagers under some sort of spell? It certainly wouldn't be the first time.
"Only a bit longer," Alined mutter, mostly to himself. He tapped a chess piece against the table. "And then we will use Camelot's own people to destroy her."
Trickler laughed in that annoying way he had. "It's so brilliant, Master. It only took a teensy bit of magic to stir up all the mistrust of the villagers, turning it into hatred. Their hatred of magic has now blinded them. They will rise against their king when the time comes."
"And there will be no way to trace it back to us," Alined said with glee. "Our soldiers will seem like nothing more than upset villagers themselves. They'll blend in perfectly with the peasants."
Merlin snorted. So that was their plan. They were going to cause a revolt against the king, using his own people. He was suddenly grateful for the spell that he'd placed on himself earlier. Merlin slipped away, thinking. He wasn't quite sure how Trickler would have put entire towns under a spell. It wasn't likely that he would have put a potion into the water supply. Otherwise, Arthur and the knights would have been effected as well.
He should have known Alined would try something. There had been peace between the kingdoms for too long. And Alined hated peace. He didn't gain anything during times of peace. But Merlin had allowed himself to forget about Alined, as the cowardly king hadn't drawn any attention to himself. That had obviously been a stupid mistake.
Why couldn't they ever have a nice, quiet trip? Why did there always have to be some plot or evil to overcome? Every time.
Merlin just wanted a little bit of relaxation.
Arthur paced, his brow furrowing as he listened to Merlin. He couldn't believe it. He didn't want to believe it. He also knew that Merlin wouldn't lie to him, not about something like this. "King Alined? You're certain it was him, Merlin?"
The sorcerer nodded. "Absolutely. I saw him and Trickler, through the tent. They didn't know I was there, of course. But it was definitely them."
"But why would Alined do something like this? It's been peaceful. With Morgana gone, the kingdoms have all been experiencing peace." Arthur couldn't even begin to fathom why Alined would want unrest.
Gwaine snorted. "Exactly, princess. That's the problem." When Arthur stared at him blankly, he sighed and continued, "It's not exactly a secret that King Alined thrives on war. He finds ways to profit from it."
"It's certainly not the first time he's done something like this against Camelot," Merlin stated.
The king slowly turned to the sorcerer. He felt his eyes narrow as that statement sank in. "When has King Alined plotted against Camelot?"
Merlin scratched the back of his head. "Oh. Uh, I never told you exactly who put you and Lady Vivian under a love spell, did I?"
"Merlin!" He vaguely remembered Alined being disappointed about something at the end of the peace talks all those years ago, but he never would have guessed that Alined would go to such extreme measures to disrupt peace.
"It wouldn't have done you any good to know. You couldn't have done anything about it. You still can't. We need to figure out how we're going to stop him this time. I doubt getting Gwen to kiss you will break this spell. It will be difficult to break a spell that's effecting entire villages, especially when we don't know how the spell was administered. If it was a potion or something else. I suppose it could be a potion, if it was one that only worked over a long period of time. That could be why we haven't been effected," Merlin mused. He seemed to be talking mostly to himself.
"So the villagers only hate magic because they've been put under a spell?" the king asked hopefully. If that was their only reason for the hatred, then perhaps his kingdom was more accepting of sorcery than he had been thinking. He hoped that was the case. This trip had started to make him feel quite discouraged. He'd been expecting much better reactions after the positive results of the festival.
Merlin sighed. "Maybe," he said, though he didn't seem very convinced. "It's more likely, though, that the spell just intensified their feelings of mistrust into hatred. And for many, the hatred may have already been there to begin with. In all honesty, though, I really don't know. I'm not entirely sure what spell was used, or how Trickler put everyone under it, or what all of the effects are."
Arthur ran his hand over his face, sighing in frustration. He didn't know what to do about this latest information. The last thing they needed was a revolt by the people. "Alined has violated the peace treaty he signed," Arthur said. "By organizing this, he has violated our agreement. I am no longer obligated to uphold Camelot's end of the treaty."
Merlin shook his head. "If we confront him, he'll claim that it's our word - my word - against his. And right now, we only have my word. We have no evidence of his plans."
Arthur narrowed his eyes at his friend. "Are you saying that you think your word is worthless?" he demanded.
"Against a king, yes."
"Merlin," the king growled. He thought he had made it quite clear, in the last few months, that Merlin was an equal now. That he was to be respected as much as any other council member. How could he still think so little of himself?
"Arthur," Merlin countered. "We both know that my word means nothing against Alined's. I know that you believe me and that you value my opinion, but to the rest of the world...Well, I'm a known sorcerer. And I used to be a servant. My word is not going to carry much weight."
The king sighed. Merlin was right, as much as he loathed to admit it. Not many people would believe what a sorcerer had to say, especially against a powerful king. Even some of the members of his own council would have doubts. Not many, not anymore. But there would be a few.
"We should return to Camelot," Leon suggested. "Start strategizing."
Arthur hesitated. He really didn't want to continue this little journey, if he was going to receive the same results in every village. However, what he wanted and what he should do were two very different things in this case. As they usually were in his life. "That may not be the best idea. Alined is obviously watching our progress, and staying close to us. If we suddenly turn back, he'll know that he's been found out. We have to keep going."
"The rest of the council should be warned," Elyan pointed out reasonably.
"I can go," Merlin offered. "I can teleport to Camelot, tell the council what I heard and saw, and then teleport back here. I can teleport back and forth as we strategize, relay messages. Alined and Trickler will never know."
Arthur again hesitated. It was a good plan. He just worried about the dangers of it. "Teleporting is powerful magic, isn't it?" he asked. Since Merlin had become Court Sorcerer, the king had learned quite a bit about magic and how it worked. He still didn't know very much, but even he knew that moving oneself from one location to another was no easy feat. "Going back and forth will use a lot of your energy. You'll drain yourself if you're not careful." And when was Merlin ever careful?
Merlin grinned recklessly, which wasn't exactly reassuring. "I'm magic itself, Arthur, remember? I'll be fine."
My naivety in warfare and strategizing is probably blatantly obvious right about now. Sorry about that.
Dieglan fram gesiehp. Dieglan fram hleocjor - to conceal oneself from sight. To conceal oneself from hearing.
Hawian in dierne - to view in secret
NerdGirlAlert: Sometimes, I'm cruel to characters.
Lollypops101: Thanks. I'm hoping/tentatively planning to bring her in soon. Maybe in one of the next few chapters. No guarantees, though.
a person d: He, he. You're welcome (sarcasm noted, btw). Personally, Kilgharrah annoys me. He's too manipulative.
halfbloodprince394: (love your username). I'm happy that you're enjoying it. I try to update regularly. Not always successful, but I do try.
Linorien: At least you signed it, lol. And thanks.
mersan123: Too bad he never seems to get it.
xxxLeanniexxx: But of course. He's the most wonderful Cupid ever. At least the others didn't let Merlin go sleep in the woods by himself.
SisterOfAnElvenWannabe: I'll be honest, it didn't bother me at all to kill him. I didn't do it just because I don't like him, I don't want anyone to think that, but his death didn't really sadden me. So I'm actually quite proud of myself to have been able to convey that sadness, without actually feeling it.
