Chapter 2

For an inn supposedly run by a sorcerer, it looked disappointingly normal.

Arthur wasn't entirely sure what he was expecting, but the cosy looking, two storey establishment with smoke curling lazily from the chimney was not it. The inn was on the outskirts of the small town, (likely due to the patronage) and situated right beside the path that would lead to the Perilous Lands. The path was looked like it was once a road, but had dwindled and been overrun by nature over years of disuse. The forest behind the inn should've made it look menacing in the dusk light, like something children were warned about in folk tales, but instead only added to the homely look. The distant whickering of horses indicated there was a stable behind the inn, the sounds adding to the peaceful atmosphere of the place. Arthur wondered if it was magic that made it look so invitingly average, but that thought only made his head spin so he moved on.

'Well, I had hoped we'd get here sooner but its nearly nightfall, so we may as well take a room and continue on tomorrow morning, eh?'

Arthur jumped, though he'd never admit to it. He'd been so taken in by the inn he'd forgotten for a moment that he wasn't alone. How anyone could look over Gwaine's presence was a mystery.

Arthur blamed the magic.

Gwaine just laughed.

'Come on then twitchy,' Gwaine chuckled. 'After today, I think we both deserve a drink.'

With that, Gwaine strolled off towards the wood-panelled door, shaking Arthur out of his embarrassment as he hurried to catch up, all the while reassuring himself that it was perfectly safe.

No one would have any clue who he was.

Merlin was having a good day.

It was quite the change really, usually an inn full of magic folk was quite the task to keep. Fortunately, the group of dwarves that were staying had left that morning, so the wood nymphs wouldn't get offended by them again and his tables were once again safe from regressing back into trees and attacking said dwarves. It took him hours to figure out how to change them back, as evidently the magic used by nymphs was just as inherent and unpredictable as his. To make matters worse the nymphs had stormed off in a huff and refused to help, though they did apologise for it once they'd calmed down.

As the dwarves came in such a large group, the inn was quite empty now, giving him some free time on his hands. The only people remaining were the three nymphs and a rogue druid, who Merlin was friendly with. This, Merlin discovered, was a rare commodity when one decides to run a business themselves. He'd considered hiring someone to help but decided against it. It was a small place and while he was doing well, the cost of hiring another person might be too much. Besides, anyone who would be comfortable working in a place like this tended not to stay in one place too long.

Merlin sighed wistfully. Yes, magic was legal here, but he still had eyes. He could see how wary the local people were of him, how they were only happy for him to stay if he kept out of their way, and how they all tended to look over their shoulders, expecting the Knights of Camelot to come down on them for harbouring a "sorcerer".

'Honestly, I'm a warlock. There's a difference,' he muttered petulantly to himself, ignoring the odd look from Calvin, the druid, who had been keeping him company at the bar.

He had always wondered what his life would be like had he actually made it to Camelot, like he'd intended before being… side-tracked. He laughed humourlessly. I'd probably be dead, he thought wryly.

BANG.

'MERLIN MY FRIEND!'

The sound of his door banging open and the equally loud exclamation brought him out of his reverie. He looked up at the new arrival from the tankard he'd been cleaning absently and grinned so wide it made his cheeks hurt.

'Gwaine!'

He leaned forward and put his elbows on the bar as Gwaine approached, heedless of the looks he received from the other patrons, varying between Calvin's amused glance and the wood nymphs at the corner table that looked about ready to bolt.

'You know I'm always happy to see you Gwaine but could you please refrain from breaking down my door? Again.' Merlin added pointedly, and Gwaine looked somewhat abashed, his grin turning more apologetic as he took a seat at the bar next to Calvin and exchanged brief greetings with him.

The other patrons calmed down after seeing Gwaine's obvious friendliness with Merlin, reassured that he was not a hunter or someone else out to get them.

The door clicked shut softly in contrast to Gwaine's exuberant entrance, and Merlin looked towards the door again to find another man walking towards to bar. He was blonde and broad-shouldered, with a sword strapped to his hip, much like Gwaine's. But what most caught Merlin's attention was the barely concealed wariness as he glanced around the room, visibly noting the exits and avoiding the nymphs, which made Merlin sigh internally. Well, at least the newcomer was attempting to be civil, though clearly uncomfortable. He did seem somewhat familiar though, like an itch at the back of Merlin's mind, just out of reach.

The man took a seat next to Gwaine, who patted him heartily on the back.

'This is Arthur, my new favourite drinking buddy,' came the customary introduction.

Merlin raised an eyebrow. 'Oh really? That's high praise indeed,' he grinned. 'Pleasure to meet you Arthur. As you may have surmised, I'm Merlin. Welcome to my humble abode.'

Arthur looked at him with renewed interest at that, noting every feature, as though assessing a threat. Merlin snorted internally, thinking that was probably an accurate description of what he was doing. Blonde hair, blue eyes, broad shoulders obviously conditioned by years of training with the sword resting easily at his hip and his name was Arthur. Merlin wanted to hit himself, of course Arthur was familiar. The only real question was how on earth could Gwaine have thought it was a good idea to bring the Prince of Camelot here?

Merlin pasted a grin on his face that he knew everyone could see through, though he hoped they would chalk it up to being intimidated by the newcomer.

'Alright, now introductions are done, my friend and I are in the need for two rooms for tonight if you have 'em. Also, do you think you could grab some of that incredible ale you gave me last time? You know, the one that has me singing after half a pint? It's been that kind of day,' Gwaine effectively broke the tense silence with a grin of anticipation.

Merlin rolled his eyes.

'I'm hardly booked out at the moment,' Merlin replied drying, gesturing to the mostly empty dining hall. 'And you do realise that that ale isn't intended for human consumption, right?'

A flinch. Barely perceptible, so much so that Merlin would've missed it had he not been standing so close to Arthur behind the bar.

An idea formed in his head, and he had to fight back the wicked grin that threatened to emerge. Merlin didn't doubt that Gwaine had told Arthur that this inn was run by a sorcerer, and Arthur had only looked uncomfortable at the nymphs' presence, not surprised. Well, he thought to himself, he really can't afford to be this jumpy around magic in a place full of magic, now can he?

He turned back to Gwaine and shrugged, 'But, if you insist I suppose.'

With that, reached into the golden power raging just beneath his skin. His eyes burned and he held out a hand to catch the bottle of ale that flew from the storage cupboard behind him.

Merlin wouldn't say he was a lazy person by any means. As a general rule, he would only resort to using his magic to help run things when absolutely needed, but the total shock (entirely visible) of his newest guest was absolutely worth it. A quiet snort to the left told him the Calvin thought so too, and Gwaine's raucous laughter left little to the imagination.

Merlin unsuccessfully smothered a grin as he cracked open the bottle and poured it into the tankard he'd just been cleaning, making sure to only fill it half way. He wasn't kidding before, this ale was strong enough to get a troll drunk, and he really didn't want to kill one of his best friends. Even though said best friend would probably think it the best way to die.

Arthur had flushed a deep red at Gwaine's laughter, and cleared his throat uncomfortably.

'Sorry,' he said to Merlin, determinedly ignoring Gwaine, now happily draining the tankard. 'I'm just not really used to…' he fluttered a hand vaguely towards the bottle of ale. 'This,' he finished lamely.

Merlin watched his attempted apology with sad eyes, previous humour quickly fading.

'No,' he stated with a bittersweet smile. 'I suppose you're not.'

And what exactly was that supposed to mean?

Arthur frowned at the suddenly-melancholy sorcerer but he'd already turned away and struck up a conversation with the other man at the bar. He'd seemed to be amused by Arthur's reaction to his magic (eyes glowing – pain – death – destruction – how am I still fine?) but didn't press at all. Strange.

But Gwaine did say that magic was still feared here, his inner voice reasoned, he'd be used to that kind of wariness. OK sure, but then why was he sad about it? Uther had always told him that sorcerers revel in the fear they caused others, and every sorcerer he'd met so far seemed to fit the mould. So, what was different about this one?

He didn't exactly look like one of those other sorcerers either though, Arthur admitted to himself. Pale and scrawny with a mop of unkempt dark hair, he wasn't screaming evil scheming sorcerer. Even the inn was harmless looking, dying light streaming through the well-cleaned windows and illuminating the multiple marked wooden tables and chairs placed haphazardly around the dining hall. A fire crackled merrily in the fireplace, obviously the source of the smoke he'd seen earlier, fighting off the evening chill with remarkable effectiveness for its small size. Wooden stairs at the corner of the room Arthur assumed they led to the rooms available for hire spiralled up to the next floor, also looking worn but well cared for. He could find no aspect of this place that seemed threatening at all.

He mentally shook himself out of his musings, suddenly remembering the reason they had come in the first place. If this sorcerer was less aggressive than his kin, all the better for him really. A look to his right said that Gwaine was really in no condition to ask questions – he was already slurring and looked ready to fall of the bar stool (and really, if it wasn't for humans what was that ale for?) so it seemed that task fell to Arthur.

He cleared his throat to get the sorcerer's attention and work up his courage. The sorcerer – Merlin, he reminded himself, must not antagonise sorcerers on their grounds – looked over questioningly.

'Did you want anything to eat? I'd strongly advise against having what Gwaine's having, I'm actually fairly certain he's the only person in all of Albion that can handle that drink in any amount. Which reminds me,' Merlin turned and disappeared into the storage closet again a moment, returning with a few slices of bread and a lump of cheese and handing them to Gwaine. 'Eat something. You know you'll regret it if you don't.'

Gwaine grumbled but did as he was told, and Merlin turned to look at Arthur again, expectantly.

'No – thank you – I'm good for the moment. I actually have a problem I'm hoping you can help me, well, us with,' Arthur explained, gesturing to Gwaine.

'Really.' Merlin looked highly sceptical, and Arthur supposed he couldn't blame him.

'There's some kind of magical beast that's been killing people around this region, it's actually what chased us here. We have no idea what it is or how it hunts, I've never even gotten a good look at it. All we know is that it's big,' Arthur explained.

'Well, lots of beasts do that. What makes you think it's a creature of magic?' Merlin asked.

'It's… victims. How they died. It's like nothing I've ever seen. Their veins turn black, but there's no other visible marks. No claws, no fangs, no wounds at all that we could see. If there hadn't been sightings of the thing I would've suspected a poison of some kind, but apparently, all the victims said something along the lines of seeing something big out of the corner of their eye, hearing roars and footfalls near their home, or feeling like they were being watched days before they died. Our physician has been looking for possible causes, but so far he hasn't found anything. So I'm asking, do you have any idea what this thing is?'

Merlin hummed thoughtfully. 'Well, the black poison makes me think of a manticore, but they're quite small as far as I can tell. Can't say I've ever met one considering they don't live in this realm and all, but maybe your creature doesn't either?' he mused. 'It would certainly explain why it couldn't be identified in your average magic book.'

There was a pause, in which Arthur just stared.

'Not from this realm,' Arthur repeated flatly. He was suddenly hit with the overwhelming desire to bang his head on the bar several times. Of. Bloody. Course.

'Uh huh, it's a creature of the Spirit World. Pretty nasty from what I've heard, but one hasn't been seen in this world for… centuries, I don't think,' Merlin continued thoughtfully. 'I'd have to look around. Spirit World creatures aren't exactly well known – for obvious reasons – but I may have some information here for you.'

Merlin's brilliant grin was so bright it was almost hard to look at.

'Well,' Arthur replied, somewhat uncomfortable under the radiance. 'Anything you could do that might help would be greatly appreciated.' It was as close to a thank you as he could bear to give the sorcerer.

'Great! Come see me tomorrow morning and I'll go over everything with you.' Merlin's smile had not dimmed in the slightest. Arthur nodded and went to stand but Merlin stopped him.

'And here, these are for you.' He pulled two brass keys out of his pocket and handed them to Arthur, as well as the remaining bread and cheese. 'You might need these. Upstairs, first two doors on the left. The other key's for Gwaine, though I think you may have to help him to the room. Especially if he keeps flirting with the wood nymphs.'

Arthurs head snapped around to find that, yes, Gwaine had managed to stumble his way over to the admittedly beautiful (in an unearthly sort of way) creatures at the corner table and was smirking suggestively as he spoke with them. The creatures in question looked less than impressed.

'They tend to get offended rather easily, so sooner rather than later is best,' Merlin added helpfully.

Arthur shot him a look that clearly said 'why are you making me deal with this' but Merlin just gave a cheeky smile "busied" himself cleaning the bar and chatting to the other man still seated there again.

Arthur sighed but got up to drag Gwaine away anyway. It seemed his advice to visit a friend had turned out well after all, though the idea of otherworldly beasts still had Arthur reeling a little. In any case, Gwaine deserved a favour from him, even if it was saving him from – were there trees growing out of that table?

'Nyla come on! I just fixed that yesterday!' Merlin called out irritably, and the nymph – Nyla – had the grace to look abashed, though she still shot an irritated look at Gwaine now rolling on the floor in laughter.

'Alright handsome, let's go,' Arthur said as he heaved Gwaine from the ground and made for the stairs.

After this, Gwaine could considered that favour well and truly repaid.

Merlin watched in amusement as a cursing Arthur dragged a still guffawing Gwaine up the stairs and out of sight. He laughed out loud when Gwaine proclaimed loudly that he should be the one carrying the princess to safety, not the other way around, followed but Arthur's loud, 'Shut up, Gwaine!'

'Are you sure about this, Emrys?' Calvin asked quietly, and Merlin quickly sobered, grin fading.

'It's not like I can make his opinion on magic any worse, now can I?' Merlin replied stubbornly. 'It could be exactly the push he needs.'

Calvin studied him a moment.

'You're planning on going with him, aren't you?'

'Obviously. Whatever this is, it's going to try and kill him. They always do. But now, I don't have to use the Network to keep him safe, I can do it myself. Plus,' his tone became excited. 'He knows what I am – there's no way Gwaine can't have told him – but he still asked for my help. If that's not proof that change is coming, I don't know what is.'

Calvin still looked doubtful but tilted his head in acquiescence, before finishing his drink and standing. With one last measuring look, he gave a quiet 'Good night then, Emrys, and good luck,' and headed for the door.

Merlin absently cleared the room, mind already racing with ideas on what the creature could be, and the books he owned that may hold the answers. He smiled to himself a little.

'Gwaine really should get free drinks here from now on after this,' he mused.

He stopped as a thought occurred to him. His smile turned disbelieving, then fond, as he realised the undeniable truth.

'He definitely planned this.'

I always got the impression throughout the series that Arthur is actually terrible at keeping a secret, and the only way he manages is with a) Merlins help and/or b) people indulging him. Plus it's a lot of fun to write so I went with it. Hope the changes in perspective weren't too confusing.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed/followed/favourited! It's so encouraging to see, you guys are the best.

Happy reading!

~Seagrass12