A/N: As always, Sofiajedi is my hero. And an enormous thanks to all who reviewed.
They rode from the land of Khazad with an escort. There were a few shocked peasants crowding around them at first, demanding to know what had happened and why they yet breathed. Those men and women had scattered when their other escort soared above them.
The dragon, who provided a helpful blanket of shade for the riders as they galloped, would only see them to the borders of her lands. It was partially a gesture of respect to her Lord, who looked as if he would burn in the hot sun, and partially to watch her treasure leave.
The Emeralds were invisible, resting in a pouch that was mere inches from the Prince's left hand. They had been taken into her hoard for their outstanding beauty, and their magic was not of the dragons. The necklace held no power over her that all precious things did not have in equal supply.
But over men, she might worry. Her Lord was protected by his own blood, and more importantly by the infinite power that radiated from his core. But the others? That one who thought of his Lady love back home, would he be immune? Or the rouge, who carried himself stiff for his injuries?
Or her Lord's lover, whose fingers even now twitched closer to those gems. He stood out clearest in her eyes, if only because of his golden hair where his companions were dark. She held him in mistrust. Uther toyed with magic once, before he turned on it.
It could only be hoped that he had a stronger heart than his father, and that her Lord would keep it noble. She reached the border, where scrub turned to holly bushes and saplings, then turned. One wing dipped down to balance her, and she sent up a tendril of flame in salute.
Merlin reined in his mare to wave back. Faerscaer acknowledged it with a glance that he recognized as both farewell and thanks. Merlin grinned back.
"I find it disturbing that you made friends with a dragon." Gwaine commented. His arm was bandaged and in a sling. "Who threw me into a pile of very heavy gold."
"She thought you were attacking her!" Merlin protested. He thought a moment. "And you were trying to set up an ambush. Can't blame a dragon for protecting her own home."
"Besides, we all know that Merlin has made friends with fouler lizards than that one." Lancelot had taken being tossed down a flight of steps with impressive good grace. He nodded his head in Arthur's direction. Gwaine and Merlin laughed.
"Are you going to shut up anytime soon?" Arthur snapped over his shoulder. He glared at the knights. "It's a three day gallop back to Camelot, and it'll be a lot more peaceful without you all nattering in my ears the whole time."
"I think he resents being called a lizard." Gwaine said to Lancelot. "Maybe worm would be better?"
"I said toad." Merlin grinned at Arthur. "Or possibly a stoat."
"You're all morons." Arthur growled. "Don't you have better things to think about?"
"Not really, no." Gwaine answered for them all. His horse, who had been relieved to be taken from that drafty pen, barely needed steering. They were so used to one another's company that Gwaine could move her with only his knees. Lancelot's stallion was less cheerful, but smart enough to follow Arthur's horse. Merlin had magic on his side when riding, and it gave him an uncanny knack with his horse. Though she was an extremely even tempered girl already.
"Great." Arthur scowled. "At least we got the necklace."
"What does it look like anyways?" Lancelot asked. "You haven't shown it to us."
"We can't stop." Arthur replied flatly. "And it's hardly your concern what the Emeralds appear as."
"Considering we've been knocked around fighting a bloody dragon for the things, I'd say it is." Gwaine said. "Why don't you show us?"
"You can see them when we make camp. Until then, shut up." It was Merlin's pleading glance that convinced Gwaine.
Arthur sat by the fire, brooding. Gwaine and Lancelot were long since asleep, curled up under their cloaks by the fireside. Merlin was sprawled on his side of the fire, and Arthur had seen it fit to give him his cloak. He couldn't have Merlin freezing to death because the sap skull didn't own a proper jacket.
In one hand, the necklace glittered. Arthur shifted his fingers and the gold chain slid through them. In the glow of the flames, each link had it's own sparkle. The emeralds themselves, just as enormous as promised, hung around his open palm.
They were beautiful. Arthur touched one with his thumb, and it was smooth as the blade of his sword. Whoever had cut them, they had been a master jewel smith. Light reflected off them in shades of green and flashes of blue where the sapphires danced.
"What are you doing?" He started, but not enough to draw a sword. After all, that was Merlin's voice. The man had woken up, if he'd ever been asleep, and was looking at him strangely. With the overlarge red cloak drawn around his shoulders and his neck exposed, Merlin looked perfectly ravishable. Before Arthur could think on that and the irritating fact that there were two other knights around the fire, the jewels he held drew his gaze.
"I couldn't sleep." They had kept him up. The necklace seemed unsafe without someone constantly awake to guard it. What if someone-he didn't suspect Gwaine and Lancelot, not when they'd barely gotten a glance at it, and Merlin was Merlin but they might not be alone in the woods-had crept up to the fire and taken them while he slumbered? "And you?"
"Same." Merlin kept seeing the firelight curl around the jewels Arthur was fondling. The flames looked like tendrils of blood. He inched closer to Arthur.
"I still can't believe it let them go like that." Arthur brushed his fingers over an emerald. "They're beautiful."
"There's plenty of stuff in that hoard." Merlin eyed the necklace. "And they aren't that pretty."
"What?" Arthur blinked at Merlin. "I've never seen such perfection as this." Merlin shrugged.
"I suppose. They're rather gaudy though, and who needs five huge rocks weighing them down, not to mention all that gold. Seems like you'd end up with a sore neck after one night." Arthur laughed. It was surprisingly devoid of any malice, or anger that his beloved prize had been insulted.
"Only for a weakling like you, Merlin. You take them and watch them, I'm going to bed." Arthur yawned and tossed the necklace to Merlin. Merlin caught it with a grunt. "Guard them with your life."
"No thanks, I think I'll just wake you up." Arthur settled down, his head on Merlin's thigh. It sent tingles running up Merlin's leg. He smiled softly and put one hand on Arthur's hair. The Prince had fallen asleep immediately, doubtless more tired than he knew.
Merlin idly switched his attention to the necklace. The emeralds winked up at him, and sat cold in his hands. Frankly, the wizard through the simple pendant Lancelot bought Gwen was prettier, and a lot easier to haul around.
They set out again at dawn, with only a few minutes spared for breakfast. That day Arthur rode with one hand in his pouch, so he could feel the necklace with him. They cantered along without enormous difficulty, going through territory that was by all reports both peaceful and content.
The men lurking in the woods would argue differently. They were only ordinary bandits, nothing special, and would scarce have made even a tiny dent in history if it had been a different party they attacked. Indeed, such a motley collection of men-mostly servants who had stolen their master's least valuable weaponry and a few deserting soldiers-would not have normally attacked four travelers such as these. Not strong men who carried long swords at their hips and rode without obvious wealth.
But something compelled them. For reasons beyond his limited mind the leader, a sergeant who deserted his forces when it was clear that Cenred was not leading them but a sorceress, saw the horsemen and desired to attack them. His men, mostly dullards whose only true skills were in drinking, mirrored the desire.
More fool them. Those who they sprang upon were unprepared for sure, but not unarmed or untrained. The bandits charged down to the path, yelling and waving swords.
Lancelot dismounted and met the first bandit head on, slamming his hilt into the man's head. The bandit leader's eyes rolled up in his head and he crumpled. Lancelot ducked under another blade and swung, disemboweling a man without effort and following it with a thrust to the heart. He was never one to let someone suffer.
Gwaine charged instantly, his blade ringing on steel before slicing through the cheap sword of the man attacking him. The man gulped, and his last feeling before a sword sliced his throat was surprise. Gwaine wheeled, blade bloodstained, to check on Merlin.
He needn't have. The man who'd attempted to grab Merlin was lying on the ground unconscious, for no apparent reason. Merlin had stabbed another with speed that for an untrained fighter was near unnatural. He frantically looked for Arthur.
Arthur's horse had reared, and the necklace gone flying from the open pouch. Arthur whipped around searching for it, finally spotting the shining piece of gold on the ground. A bandit was staring at it, open mouthed.
He bent down to pick it up. His cutlass had fallen from his hands in his reverie.
"Get away from that, it's mine!" Arthur lunged, unsheathing his blade as he went, and in one mighty hack severed the man's head from his shoulders. He crouched down, unmindful of danger, and grabbed the necklace. He fondled it in his hand for a second, smiling in relief.
The emeralds were safe. They had to be cleaned, but they were safe and in his possession, as was only right.
It was good for Arthur that his companions had disposed of the other bandits. He was in a vulnerable position, with his back to the battlefield and his sword forgotten.
"Arthur?" Merlin asked. He looked worriedly at the prince. His green eyes, usually a paler color, seemed almost the same rich green as the emeralds. Arthur looked up, blinking.
"We need to find a stream and wash these. The bandit got blood on them." Merlin frowned. Arthur still held the necklace in one hand.
"Must we?" Lancelot asked. "I was hoping we could push and get to Camelot by tomorrow morning." He was eager to see Gwen again, and sleep in his own bed. Gwaine was of the same mind.
"No." Arthur glared. "We stop as soon as we hear water. I want to see these clean before there's a chance of the blood staining them."
"Maybe you could wipe them off with a cloth and then just put them away?" Merlin said tentatively. Arthur shook his head imperiously.
"Impossible. You saw what happened the last time I let them out of my grip-they were almost stolen. I refuse to take that chance again." Gwaine rolled his eyes. "Did you have comment, Sir Gwaine?"
"Yes-why don't you just wash the damn things in Camelot?" Arthur shook his head. "If you think they're in that much danger, I'll put them in my boots."
"No." Arthur said vehemently. His hand closed convulsively on the gems. "They're safest with me, I'm the best fighter."
"That's debatable…" muttered Merlin. The warlock's sense of dread only increased when he saw the way Arthur was gripping the gems. He walked up to Arthur and touched his hand. "Arthur, you're going to cut yourself."
Arthur blinked and looked down. He was holding to the necklace rather tightly, and under Merlin's gentle fingers his own unclasped.
"We find a stream. There should be one only miles away." He shoved past Merlin and mounted his horse. "Northwards."
Merlin could feel the annoyance growing on one side of him-Lancelot. Behind, Gwaine's frustration was building up. He bit the inside of his cheek, hoping that neither was going to do anything foolish.
Arthur went for the stream with single minded purpose. He dismounted and tossed the reins to Merlin, ignoring his lover's squeak of protest. In another stride he was kneeling by the river and had the emeralds in his hands.
"You made us divert path just for that? They're spotless!" Arthur turned the necklace over in his hands. Any blood that he thought had spattered on them when he beheaded that thief was gone. He must have rubbed it off with his hands, or perhaps he'd imagined it.
"They still should be polished." He dipped them in the water, keeping a tight grip. The place they stopped was a quick flowing river, only yards from where it tumbled into a waterfall. The merry sound of crashing water helped dull Gwaine's furious mutters and Lancelot's disconsolate grumbles.
"Here, let me clean the damn things." Gwaine stepped next to Arthur and reached for the necklace. Merlin shivered, thinking he felt something dark and slimy writhe.
Arthur was not by nature murderous, let alone to those of whom Merlin was fond. He meant only to edge away from his knight and tell the man just who the emeralds belonged to. The grass their boots were on was dampened by the waves that splashed along the banks, and muddy. It was not his intent to elbow Gwaine into the river.
Lancelot, scratching at his horse's ears, didn't realize what had happened until he heard Gwaine's yell and saw the knight plunge underwater. Arthur's mouth fell open as he wondered how such a sure footed man had gone into the river.
Merlin however, because he had been watching Arthur closely, saw when Arthur's arm intercepted Gwaine's shin and tumbled the man into the river. Merlin, being fully aware of how chain mail sinks, was the first to react.
He ran forward. Merlin's eyes, out of Arthur's line of vision, turned brilliant gold. A rock suddenly appeared in Gwaine's reach, where Arthur in his bewilderment would think that he just hadn't noticed. Gwaine grabbed it, as Merlin splashed into the water thinking of spells.
"Grab my hand!" Gwaine did so without question. Merlin's face was still turned away as he hauled Gwaine from water where the current was strangely absent. Gwaine staggered onto shore spluttering and coughing, weighed down by mail.
"He tripped me!" Gwaine pointed at Arthur. "That bloody prince tripped me!"
"Are you insane? Why would I try to drown one of my own knights? You slipped off the bank!" Arthur responded. He was angry, angrier perhaps than the situation demanded. He could very well have tripped Gwaine by accident, and the slippery grass done the rest.
But the thought sounded like an insult, by a man who could be rather useless and untrustworthy when he thought about it. Gwaine opened his mouth to furiously retort that he didn't know why but Arthur had, when Merlin put a hand on his arm.
"We need to make camp here." The manservant said. He touched Gwaine's bandages. "These are soaked through. If I don't replace them, your arm is going to be in a lot of pain."
"It already is." Gwaine grumbled. But Merlin had soothed him, and he sat down with his back to a tree. "Bloody quests are a waste of time."
Merlin had his hand on Arthur's shoulder before the prince could defend his new jewelry. Arthur grimly stayed silent, thinking of ways to dock Gwaine's pay. He had looped the gold chain around his wrist so that the emeralds were never far from his fingers.
Lancelot flopped to the ground, exhaling. A red haze had begun to grow in the back of his mind. Why did Gwaine have to fall into a river? Now they wouldn't be back in Camelot and he wouldn't be with Gwen for an extra day! Well he certainly had no intention of gathering firewood.
Arthur sat down as well, the poisonous look he sent both knights indicating that he had no intention of helping. Merlin sighed and trooped into the forest for firewood.
Merlin drifted through the forest. He nodded to the ringdoves, who fluttered their wings and settled all the more comfortably on their nests. A grin towards a mother deer and her speckled fawn, who dashed forward to nose his fingers before hastening to her serene mother's side. A bear lumbered past, sparing Merlin only a grunt of acknowledgement before returning to his search for grubs.
The wizard held out a hand and watched the firewood leap into it. He could feel hints of nostalgia here, as if he was back in Ealdor and Will would soon scramble over a log and demand that he stop cheating.
But the time of Ealdor was gone, and Merlin had knights to care for. Still, it would do no harm to linger here another few minutes. A flash of red caught his eye and Merlin turned to see a fox crouched in the underbrush, bright black eyes sparkling up at him.
"Hello Renard." Merlin crouched down at smiled at the fox. It barked once, the peculiar high pitched bark of foxes who rarely open their mouths to alert others of their whereabouts. Merlin's brow furrowed.
"The knights are in danger." He heard the words flow from the fox's muzzle as it barked. Merlin had taken messages from certain animals before, those blessed with clearer sight than their compatriots and who were deeply in touch with the magic of the forest.
"Why?" The fox's fur was all on end he saw, and the tail bristled up. It shook it's head, eyes darting.
"Bad." Merlin understood that there were few things which the creatures of the forest would themselves label bad, for they lived in a world removed from man's perceptions. That an animal would call something such made him deeply uneasy.
"Thank you." The fox dipped it's head to him and was gone, away through the brush to a den or stored meal. Merlin dashed toward camp, shedding his heavier pieces of wood. He caught a glimpse of the ringdoves with their heads tucked under wings, and fear grew.
Then came upraised voices. Merlin burst into camp to see Lancelot and Arthur both on their feet and yelling. Gwaine was swearing in pain, and his bandages had new spots of red on them.
"What is happening?" Merlin said incredulously. Gwaine paused his swearing long enough to hiss out a response.
"That fool Lancelot kicked my arm when he hopped to his feet, and it dislocated something." Gwaine went back to cradling the arm, cursing. Arthur and Lancelot were at the point of exchanging blows, Merlin could see.
"You don't know how to love!"
"Love? If that strumpet is even capable of emotion deeper than giggles, I'll chop my own head off!"
"Allow me!" Lancelot stepped closer to Arthur, his hand on his sword hilt. Merlin stepped between them.
"What happened?" He repeated. One hand was on Arthur's chest and the prince relaxed his stance. Lancelot furiously gestured towards Arthur.
"He insulted Gwen!"
"Lancelot was undermining my authority and the purpose of the quest!" Merlin blinked and looked between them. Lancelot was breathing heavily, and rare fury showed in his features. Arthur's anger seemed diminishing, but there was heat in his eyes that belied hope of reconciliation.
"You two are idiots." Merlin said. He glared at Arthur. "Lancelot doesn't undermine your authority, he's very loyal, and he was the first one to volunteer for this stupid quest!" He turned to Lancelot. "Arthur knows Gwen to be a wonderful human being, so quit arguing about her."
Merlin had rather hoped Arthur had cooled enough towards Gwen to not be drawn into argument over her. That he apparently wasn't was an icicle to the heart.
"Fine." Arthur turned away and sat back down. "You are lucky that Merlin was here, Lancelot."
"Please, we've all heard the myriad of tales wherein Lancelot is proven far better at the knightly arts." Gwaine snapped. He'd forgotten that a moment ago he had been wishing for Lancelot's head on a pike. "Don't act as though it wasn't your sorry hide that Merlin saved."
"Gwaine, shut up." Merlin hissed. He bent down and began undoing bandages. Gwaine gnashed his teeth but was silent, and Arthur restrained himself from leaping at Gwaine. Merlin was next to him and might be caught in crossfire.
Angry silence reigned. Merlin lit a fire and doled out rations. He fixed Gwaine's arm without enormous difficulty, though the venomous looks of the knight suggested that it was more difficult for Gwaine.
Arthur himself ignored the looks his knights were sending him and focused on the green glow of the emeralds. Their shine was sweeter than any he'd seen. Merlin, eying them from where he tended the fire, thought the sapphires glittered like snake eyes and the emeralds looked like mold. Very, very, healthy mold.
Merlin also thought that a fox was unlikely to call a simple quarrel bad. But if it was caused by something else, something that turned men's loyalty sour and dreams into nightmares…then the Renard would call it bad indeed.
Lancelot had fallen asleep, and his dreams were that which it is a relief to forget. Gwen, her sweet face so sad as Arthur grabbed her and pulled her away. Arthur himself dripped blood and opened up a toothless maw, burned at the edges and with trickles of pus seeping down the sides. Gwen put her hands on his shoulders and tipped up her head, eyes glittering with green tears, and her own gentle lips touched that hideous mouth.
"Lancelot. Wake up." He blinked. There was a lightening around the edges of the dream, little gold pinpricks which broke the shadows wherein Gwen and Arthur embraced. "You're having a nightmare."
Then there were golden eyes and the light clove this monstrous Arthur apart, letting Gwen escape him and rush to Lancelot's arms. On the sidelines was a real Arthur, his eyes replaced by glowing green but making no move to Gwen, only standing and staring.
Lancelot's eyes snapped open. He still saw golden eyes-but they were only Merlin's.
"You can use magic to change dreams?" Lancelot quietly asked.
"I improvised it, but yeah. You were twitching and muttering." Lancelot remembered his dream and shivered. The light from the fire and from Merlin's eyes was mostly chasing away that wrong Arthur, but the feel of horror lingered. "Gwaine and Arthur have fallen asleep."
So they had. Arthur was curled on his side with the emeralds close his face, so each time he breathed the air brushed them. Gwaine was at the base of a tree, and slept like a log.
"I don't think there's a power on earth that can give Gwaine a nightmare." Lancelot muttered. Merlin shrugged, looking sheepish.
"I slipped a herb into his food. He won't wake until morning, and nothing can make it's way into his mind." Merlin blessed the lessons he'd learned from Gaius. Chief among them was that it was absolutely okay to drug someone without their knowledge, as long as it was for their own good.
"Didn't stand to help out me or Arthur?" Lancelot asked. His voice carried heavy traces of resentment.
"I didn't have much, and you I could help with magic. Arthur…" Merlin eyed him. "I think they have other plans for him."
"They?"
"The emeralds. I think they've been cursed." Lancelot frowned. "Haven't you noticed tempers have been high for no reason at all?"
"You've been acting normal."
"I think it's dragon blood."
"Pardon?" Merlin frowned.
"Did I forget to tell you? I'm the only living dragon lord." Lancelot gaped at him. "Ah. I didn't tell you then…"
"No wonder Farscar…"
"Faerscaer." Merlin enunciated. Lancelot waved a hand.
"I think it takes knowing dragon tongue to pronounce that. So that's why we aren't all dead." Lancelot thought. "It amazes me that you haven't yet killed Uther in a vengeance."
"Sometimes it's a shock to me as well." Merlin sighed. "But whatever this thing is with the emeralds, they don't bother dragon kin."
"Just us pitiful humans, eh?" Lancelot's tone wasn't quite teasing. Merlin looked at him, startled. "Well when you need the help of us common folk my Lord, wake me up."
"What? Lancelot!" The knight rolled over and hitched his cloak around his shoulders, ignoring Merlin. Merlin turned his head to glare at the emeralds. They winked at him in a way that seemed to Merlin sly.
Merlin slowly loaded up the saddlebags. Lancelot was already mounted and ready to go, snapping the reins in a way that made Merlin pity the poor horse. Gwaine, still sulky and not much improved for a good night's sleep, was being awkward with the bags just to irritate Lancelot.
Arthur caressed the necklace. He sat by the dead fire watching the sunlight send an aureoles shimmering around the gold plating, and the emeralds glow. Merlin swallowed.
"Arthur?" The prince barely glanced up. "Will you listen to me, prat?"
"What is it Merlin?" Arthur's gaze swung up to Merlin.
"Can I talk to you? Alone?" Arthur's mouth opened, an answer along the lines of "we need to get back to Camelot quickly, no" on the tip of his tongue. Merlin's troubled look killed that response.
"Gwaine, watch my horse." That got him a furious look from Gwaine. Merlin didn't care. He led Arthur along the river away from the other two, until they were out of earshot. Then Merlin took his life in his hands.
"I think you should get rid of those jewels." Arthur stared. "Soon."
"I beg your pardon?" His fingers tightened their grip on the emeralds. They felt good in his hands. Merlin took that in, his fear growing.
"You're obsessing over them!" He gestured to Arthur's hand. "See, you just cut yourself on the damn things and do you notice that whenever blood touches them it seems to sink right in?"
Arthur blinked down at his hand. True, there was a jagged cut running along his thumb and the emeralds were clean, but that wasn't a crime. The blood had just slid off, the emeralds were so finely cut as to do that.
"You're being paranoid, Merlin." Arthur responded, coldly. "I think perhaps you should go back to camp and spend some time riding alone with your delusions."
"See! See, the minute anyone says something bad about them you act like they've slandered your mother!"
"Merlin I am warning you, if you don't stop this behavior at once I'll tie you to my horse and let you run back to Camelot, and whip you if you trip!" In that moment, Arthur would have. Merlin stepped away from him, but did not stop.
"It's a necklace Arthur! And furthermore, it's probably not going to do your mad father any good, I can see that much, even if you can bear to be parted from them for long enough to put them on his neck!" Merlin reached for it. "Throw it in the river and be done with it!"
"How dare you speak of my father that way!" Arthur loosened his sword. Merlin thought his eyes had turned to a different shade of green.
"What way? You know full well he's out of his mind, you've said as much to me a hundred times!" Merlin held out his hands in supplication. "Remember, when we were in bed?"
He hoped that playing the lovers card might remind Arthur that Merlin was someone he could trust, that Merlin was someone he shared a bed with and confided in and who had never stabbed him in the back despite ample opportunity.
"Do not mistake your place, boy." It did not. Arthur's eyes looked hazier, and his voice was strange. "I will take these to Camelot as a prize of victory, and to honor those at Khazad."
"Victory over what? Arthur, please, if you ever cared for me, listen to me now! Those things are getting in your mind, fouling your thoughts, and if you bring them to Camelot you're going to rot the city from within!" Arthur blinked. For a second, Merlin had hope.
"You know none of what you speak. When we return, I'll throw you in the dungeons as a traitor." Merlin's heart fell. But Arthur was glaring at him, all attention on Merlin's face, and whatever he said, Arthur did trust Merlin. He wouldn't expect his lover to lunge at him.
Merlin was counting on that. He suddenly dove forward and grabbed Arthur's wrist with one hand, prying the necklace from it. Time slowed, quite literally, by way of Merlin's magic, so he could contend with Arthur's reflexes. But Arthur's reflex had never been to strike at Merlin, and that was a great help.
Merlin had them. He whirled, feeling them twist in his hand and nearly come alive. Merlin had a vision of this necklace around a person's neck, choking them. His eyes flashed gold and the chain writhed, like a snake when a dagger hits it's middle. Merlin pulled back his arm and hurled the coronet into the river, where the current would carry it over the falls and it's own weight would sink it to the bottom under the foaming waves.
"What did you do, you idiot?" Arthur grabbed Merlin's collar and pulled him around, a wild light in his eyes. Merlin choked and Arthur shoved him down, unsheathing his sword in a fluid moment. "That was the way to heal my father!"
He swung down. Merlin gasped as cold steel hummed through the air. He was going to die here with river-wet grass staining his knees and one hand aching because those damned chains had whipped across it, at the hand of someone he protected and loved, because Arthur couldn't let go of a cursed necklace.
The blade stopped an inch from his neck.
Arthur stared down at him, blood pounding in his ears. Merlin stared up at him, terror written over his features.
What was he doing?
The prince lowered his sword and turned, fear flying though him. He'd almost killed Merlin. Almost killed idiot, precious Merlin over a necklace and no matter what the worth of the thing was it was never worth Merlin, not if it had been a hundred gorgeous emeralds in 300 yards of gold chain.
The emeralds went over the falls, and water cut off an outraged cry. Arthur blinked. Back at their camp Lancelot blinked and then jumped as he realized what he'd done to the horse, and Gwaine started as he remembered that it was hardly a bad thing for Lancelot to wish to get back to Camelot, and he had no reason to delay him.
What were the worth of the emeralds, anyways? Arthur wondered. It was like a fog clearing. He had no reason to be so cruel to Merlin, not when Merlin had only been concerned for his wellbeing and a valid concern at that.
He turned back to Merlin, who had been the only one to hear that angry yell.
"W-we ride for Camelot now." His gaze was drawn to the little nip in Merlin's jacket just above the shoulder, that which his sword had sliced when he was intent on separating Merlin's head from his body and aiming for just above the collarbone.
Merlin inhaled a short, angry, breath. Was that it? He nearly got himself killed and ignored and insulted and all Arthur thought to do was ride for Camelot. With frustration running through him that had nothing to do with cursed emeralds, Merlin stomped back to camp.
They entered Camelot as quietly as they left it, a bleak party. Gwen held her tongue as Lancelot embraced her, holding her rather tighter than need be for a few day's journey. She led him back to her rooms for food and comfort.
Gwaine headed for the tavern and got himself drunk. He wasn't a loose mouthed drunk or sober, and he very much wanted the dull fuzz of alcohol. Sir Leon didn't stop him from drunkenness as was his usual duty with young knights, merely carried Gwaine to his house and got him in bed safely. Leon after all, had experience in demons.
Arthur went for his rooms. Once there he fumbled through his drawers for the bracelet. The diamond's shine seemed a tad more repugnant now, and chucking them down the reservoir drain felt proper. His mind couldn't stay at peace. Merlin had been in his rooms-the fire was lit in the grate, the sheets were clean and the pillows fluffed, but he hadn't returned to Arthur's chambers in the evening as he normally would.
After around an hour or so of staring at the canopy reflecting on the taxes and being distracted by the thought of what really should have been going on in his bed around then, Arthur flung his blankets off and went to look for Merlin.
A fruitless wander round the castle later, Arthur found him. Merlin was scrubbing out Gaius's leech tank, in one of the unused corridors which abounded in Camelot. His movements were jerky and his back tense.
"Are you coming to bed?" Arthur asked. If Merlin was surprised by his presence, he didn't show it. But his scrubbing became more furious.
"Leech tank needs cleaning. Gaius can't do it, his spine's too creaky." Arthur shifted his weight from foot to foot. Merlin sighed. "Are you going to stand there all night?"
"Probably." Arthur might as well be honest. "Or until you finish."
"Won't be soon. You should just go to sleep." Merlin's tone was cold.
"Are you going to be there soon?" Arthur tried not to sound too hopeful.
"No." Merlin said flatly. "I'm going to kneel here and contemplate my delusions for quite awhile longer. Then I'm going to go back to my bed and thank all the spirits of the forest, sun and moon for your highness's mercy in not throwing me into the dungeons when we got here, as you had promised to."
"I was being controlled by emeralds!" Arthur winced. The excuse sounded rather shabby. "And I'm not now, so will you shut up and stop sulking?"
That was not what he had intended to say.
Merlin let out an audible growl. "I'm sulking now, am I? Then I'd prefer to sulk in privacy."
"What's wrong with you? We're back in Camelot, we're safe, and they're gone!" Arthur stepped closer to Merlin. He really didn't wish to go to bed, not when he didn't have Merlin with him to reassure him that he had stopped the sword in time.
"What wonderfully stated obvious, you should become a poet." Merlin responded icily. Arthur wracked his brains. What in the world was Merlin upset about?
"D'you want some sort of acknowledgement, for being the only one who figured it out?" That made Merlin get up and whirl around, glaring.
"I would like at least an apology for nearly having my head chopped off, and actually a thank you for getting rid of those things would be appreciated, yeah! But I think that my place must not merit either, and since that place appears to be rather worthless I'm fine with giving it up!" Merlin turned back around and flung the rag into the water bucket, then resumed cleaning with a vengeance.
Arthur wanted to hit himself. He'd been caught up in the fact that he almost beheaded Merlin and horrified by the mere thought. His lover however, whose head had nearly been cut off, would certainly be shaken. And possibly more than a little hurt by the rubbish that came from his mouth in that last argument. Normally Merlin never asked for any thank you at all, but this had perhaps been more taxing for the poor man than most things.
He sighed and knelt down next to Merlin. Merlin didn't look at him, focused instead on viciously swiping algae off the glass.
"Sorry. First of all, for almost killing you. Believe me, it scared me as well. Scared me far too much for me to think about what you must've been feeling. And I'm sorry for not thanking you. Getting those emeralds away from me was courageous, heroic, and I'm amazed it didn't kill you." Merlin unconsciously flexed his hand. The red marks where the necklace had bit into it were faded, but still vivid on his pale skin. Arthur's tone sharpened. "What's that?"
"Huh? Oh nothing." Arthur grabbed his hand-with startling gentleness-and inspected them. "It doesn't hurt." Much, Merlin added mentally.
"You need to tell me when you get hurt." Arthur said. He traced the line. "I wish I'd hurled that thing away as soon as I felt strange."
"Well, you aren't very bright. Probably been hit in the head too many times." Merlin suggested. Arthur looked up from his hand incredulously. "It was impossible to resist, sorry."
"I'd rather have you teasing than upset." Arthur wrapped an arm around Merlin's waist. Merlin didn't shrug it off.
"You're being distinctly unprattly, perhaps something was dislodged when the dragon hit you." Merlin commented. Arthur sighed and moved closer, wrapping both arms around Merlin so the wizard was pulled against Arthur's chest. Merlin didn't object.
"Shut up, Merlin. I'm only looking after your health." Merlin sighed.
"I thought it wasn't my place to be cared about by the prince." Arthur shook his head and put his chin against Merlin's shoulder, so he could feel dark hair tickling his nose.
"It doesn't mater. I do care, Merlin. I…very much care."
Later, when Merlin was lying drowsy in Arthur's arms and morning light was just beginning to creep into the royal chambers, Arthur spoke.
"Why do you think the merchant told me about those jewels?" Merlin was silent.
"I think they would've cleared your father's mind…but been selective about which parts. Maybe only cleared the way for cruelty and malice and kept all the good locked off in some other part." Merlin shrugged. Arthur enjoyed the feeling on Merlin's skin moving. "I suppose he didn't know much about them."
"I suppose." Arthur sat up. "One thing, before I forget." Merlin rolled over and watched as Arthur poked in his wardrobe, looking for something.
"I hope you aren't trying to dress yourself Arthur. We know how that turns out." Arthur snorted and finally found what he was looking for. A velvet cloak, dark blue like the light on the horizon just before the sun sets. It was cut in a fashion vaguely resembling the druids, though that thought never occurred to Arthur. Pinned to one side was a dragon brooch of twisting gold.
"I bought it for you before the merchant left." Arthur sounded slightly embarrassed. "Since you don't own a decent jacket, and I didn't want you catching a chill as soon as cold weather hits."
"Thank you." Merlin sat up and stared at in in awe. The worth was probably more than all his clothing thrown together, not even throwing in the brooch. The brooch with the Pendragon motif on it. "It's…"
"Yes, well, I didn't want you dead." Arthur tossed it over a chair and wiggled back into bed, wrapping his arms around Merlin again. Merlin smiled. The morning sun was faint enough that they wouldn't be needed for hours, Arthur was holding him without restraint, and the kingdom was, for the most part, safe and secure.
If dark things stirred in far corners and people far away plotted, it could not touch any in Camelot then.
A/N: Finished! I blame this all on Nova Scotia rain, because how awesome is writing when you can hear rain pattering on the roof? It's always my favorite way to work. I'm thinking about writing a sequel too, since next week I'm going to Maine.