Then…

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Bran thought, when he saw Merlin's new horse, that it fit him perfectly. It was black and small, calm but there was more fire buried inside than any of other horses he saw in the courtyard. It walked an unsettled stride and tapped Merlin's back.

"So, you named it?" Sir Gwaine asked. He looked longingly at the horse. Merlin looked at the stallion and smiled. "Not yet. Isn't he beautiful?" Merlin sounded so proud, but then he sighed. "But he has a very high temperament and is difficult trying to treat him kindly."

Gwaine laughed and tried to pet its shiny black hair, but the stallion turned its head and looked at the knight warningly. Gwaine quickly pulled his hand away.

"What breed it is?" Bran asked. "I'm sure that I haven't saw anything like that before."

"He is Arabian. He was found on the coast, apparently after a shipwreck." Merlin explained.

"Merlin is the only one who has been able to ride it." Gwaine's voice sounded prideful of his friend.

"He truly is black like the night." The king arrived. He looked to Merlin. There were no words, but Bran watched the silent conversation taking place between them while the others were waiting.

"Don't you two do anything stupid." Arthur glanced toward Gwaine who rolled his eyes. "Elyan? Percival? Keep them out of trouble. Bran, I hope you like your company. And, good luck."

"Thank you sire."

"Just call me Arthur. Come back when everything is over. "

"Yes, Arthur." Bran smiled. They mounted the horses, but before they left, Arthur and Merlin made the quick silent conversation. Arthur gave something to him, and Merlin slipped the leather cord under his blouse before Bran saw what it was. But he saw the knights look at each other, like they knew something, smiling lightly. And then they rode out of the Camelot.

()

They traveled quickly and without problems. When they finally reached, after some time, the border, night was falling.

"I hope he is not here again." Gwaine murmured and Merlin laughed.

"Who?" Bran asked.

"Grettir, the keeper of the bridge, that leads to the Perilous Lands." Merlin explained. "Just, don't do anything hasty. He is a powerful wizard."

Gwaine muttered something about flower power. They descended from horseback and reached the bridge.

"So, here again I see." Grettir grinned and Bran looked at the man and stepped forward.

"I'm here to seek help to find my brother."

"What you seek and what you want, is not my concern, Bran Fendigaidd. What you need is permission from the heir of the Fisher King to step over the border." Grettir said.

"Heir of the Fisher King?" Merlin asked and seemed surprised. Grettir's eyes narrowed as he looked Merlin.

"Yes, the heir."

"And who is this heir?" Gwaine asked. Grettir's smile was wider than ever.

"Oh, you have to wait until the morning. I'm sure that he will be here." And again the keeper's eyes narrowed when he looked at Merlin. Merlin put his hand to Bran's shoulder.

"I think we should do what he says."

"Wise words, wise words." Grettir nodded. "There is a nice place to stay over night. Just follow the river." Then he was gone.

"Let's go. It's really late." Elyan said and started to follow the river. They found a small clearing. Merlin prepared the camp, quickly and expertly. Late dinner was completed in an instant. Bran watched him worked around the campfire, clearly immersed in his thoughts. He did not interfere at all with the discussions when they tried to guess who was the heir. Eventually, they were ready to sleep. Bran noticed that Merlin made his bed away from the others. Something urged Bran to follow the example. When the quiet snoring echoed around the campfire, and Gwaine seemed to be half asleep on guard, Bran saw Merlin stand up and slip into the darkness. Bran followed silently behind. They headed for the bridge.

"You have come, magic. I have awaited your return sire." Grettir bowed when Merlin stepped into the light of the torches. Bran couldn't see Merlin's face, but he saw how tense he was.

"What was that? The heir of the Fisher King? What is going on?" Merlin tone was demanding, and powerful. Grettir winced.

"You obviously don't know. Do you remember when you came here, what I said before, that all I want is to see this realm alive again."

"Yes, I remember that." Merlin nodded.

"To make it happen, this realm needs a king. And the only king is the Fisher King's heir. His blood. And it's you. You are a descendant from him directly through your father's side."

After those words, there was a long silence.

"How you can be so sure?" Merlin's voice was little bit shaky when he asked.

"It's your magic. It's the prophecy of Emrys. You, Myrddin Emrys. And, before all, it's what he himself said to me. When he told me that you were coming." Grettir voice was full of sadness when he spoke about the previous king.

"You can't be serious."

"But I am. When you restore the magic, you must first accept your position here. A lot has been happening. And you need a position that guarantees you politically." Grettir tone was hard when presenting the fact.

"Me? The King?" Merlin started to laugh. "How I can be the king? There is no way that anyone could believe me. How am I supposed to prove that I'm the rightful heir of Fisher King?"

"Are you Myrddin Emrys, son of Balinor the Dragonlord?" Grettir asked. The question struck Merlin silent. Bran listened to the growing power with wonder.

"Yes, yes I am." Merlin said finally.

"Do you know who was your grandfather? Because I'm sure that everybody else knows who your father was. In Camelot's library is a family tree that reveals who you are. "

"Then tell me. Who was my grandfather?" Merlin whispered.

"You ever heard the name Aurelius Ambrosius?"

"Yes. Yes I have. He was… He was…" Merlin stammered. Bran gasped. Of course. If Merlin was Emrys, of course he was descendant to Ambrosius. How silly. "This can't be. Right? He? My grandfather? But that mean that Arthur is… Arthur is named after him! No, no no no no." Merlin backed off.

"Your two destiny is something very different. What Aurelius started, you two will complete it." Grettir said very determinedly.

"But then Arthur can be the king of this realm! I don't have to…"

"No, because Aurelius's sister was younger than he."

Bran saw how Merlin was swaying. "You are sure?"

"You can ask your uncle. I'm sure that Gaius knows." Grettir sighed.

"Gaius… Yes, maybe he knows. But how could he… How I can do this? How I'm supposed to be king? I'm just Merlin."

Those last words left Bran smiling. He remembered what Arthur had said. Merlin was Merlin.

"Yes, and that's a good thing. Be Merlin, because Merlin is the warlock, the king, the advisor. Merlin is many things that you don't know yet. But the time is coming and now, your friends need your permission to enter here. Do you give that to them?"

"Me? Of course." Merlin sounded confused as to why Grettir truly had to even ask that. Bran wanted to laugh aloud.

"Very well, sire. I'll see you tomorrow, your highness." Grettir bowed and disappeared.

"Don't you act like that tomorrow! You hear me? Damn. This is… This is ridiculous. This so stupid. This is so… Oh, that damn Kilgharrah. I kill him. And Gaius? How they dare to hide something like this. Although. I see the point. Ah, Kilgharrah, the castle, dragons, wyverns… " Merlin voice lowered and he looked around for any sign of followers. Bran started to slowly back off, then turned and was back at camp before Merlin returned.

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Now…

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Gwaine just sat there. Tankard of mead in his hand. Usually he didn't like the idea of silence. But when the days passed, sitting with Merlin, he learned to relax. The only thing he regretted was that he was thinking too much when he was alone with Merlin. Usually, he just avoided thinking because he knew that he wouldn't get any answers to his own questions. Noisy tavern talk prevented him from thinking too much about, well, anything. But when he was with Merlin, his thoughts rolled around in his mind, thinking of their journey to the Perilous Lands. Over and over again and he knew that he was missing something.

"I just hope that Lancelot could be here. I miss him. And I think that maybe he… You and him, you shared something. If he were here, he would know what you've gone and done again. He always knew about you. He always was there when you were in trouble. Said something, like he was protecting you from rest of us. It was so odd sometimes. But maybe he knew something about you we didn't. When we rode over that bridge, I saw how tense you were. You were so nervous. And Bran… How he looked at you. It was similar to how Lancelot used to at look you. With respect. Merlin, my friend. I just hope that someday you can tell me what is going on."

He looked at his friend and sighed. His gaze fell on Merlin's nails. There were silver nuance as well as the eyes. He shuddered. Merlin was changing, but why and into what?