Here you go; hope you're still here and enjoying the ride!
Arthur stepped out his tent. He could not sleep anyway, so he intended to relieve to guard. He breathed in the cool night air; all was quiet in the camp. He sent the boy leaning sleepily against a tree to his tent and sat himself down. He watched the moon make its way across the sky as his thoughts returned to his former life. The life in Camelot in all it's grandeur, it's comfort. He thought he would never again take plentiful food for granted. Not all had been soft and good. Many demands from his father and later the council and most of all, from himself. Hard training sessions, hunting trips, quests that had him camping, much like now. But it had always been temporary. In the end, he had always been able to come home.
His own room, with his own bed, so warm and welcoming. And Merlin, ready with his supper. Always Merlin. His servant, his friend. Merlin, who always talked so much but never really said anything. Merlin, who always knew how he felt and if he didn't, wasn't afraid to ask. Merlin, the only one to mouth off to him as one might to an equal, who teased him mercilessly every chance he got. Merlin, who made him forget, every now and then, that he was king. And who, in other moments, reminded him of just that.
Arthur rested against the tree. Apparently, there had been another Merlin. The dark part of him, secret and hidden. Dangerous. A Merlin that had fought, time and time again. A Merlin who had consorted with the druids. A Merlin who had fought griffins, dragons, sorcerers and questing beasts. And a Merlin who had defeated them all. Unlike himself. Arthur grimaced at the thought. Emrys.
He wondered for a moment was it must have been like, to have to hide himself like that. If he had for a moment thought about him, Arthur. What it would feel like to know one has been lied to like that. To be betrayed like that. He smiled bitterly at the darkness. He probably had. And kept silent anyway. Arthur couldn't even blame him. He laughed at the thought. Living in Camelot, using magic- it would have been foolish to tell, especially tell him, the Crown Prince of Camelot. Even if they were friends.
Lancelot's speech returned to him. He didn't believe the druids would help them. But could he really afford not to try?
Dawn neared and Arthur stretched his weary bones. He blinked away the fog from his eyes and stood, shivering, waiting for his shift to end. At least the sleepless night had not been in vain: He had come to a decision.
He rose in the early afternoon, famished. As he stepped out of his tent, blinking, he was greeted by Gaius, who was tending to the coals.
"Good day, Sire", Gaius said upon spotting him. "I've had some food put aside for you."
Arthur sat down in a crouch and grabbed the bowl. After he swallowed the first few bites he looked back at Gaius, who was watching him with concern. "You need to take better care of yourself, Sire. Your people need you."
Arthur gulped down his food before he spoke. "I'm perfectly fine. Tell me, Gaius: Do you know how to contact the druids?"
Gaius looked at him in astonishment. "Why would you want to do such a thing, Sire?"
Arthur wiped his mouth. "Because Lancelot was right. And I have the responsibility to try. I need you to take me to them."
Gaius bowed his head at Arthur's determined voice. "As you wish, Sire. But, Sire, it would be wise to take someone trusted with you. I'd advise Lancelot. And maybe Percival; he is less likely to say something foolish than Gwaine." Arthur smiled at the physician's attempt of a joke.
"Fine. Can you take us tomorrow?"
"I am an old man, your majesty. I suggest that I better stay here and help. I can give you directions on how you must find them."
"Then we ride at dawn."
Gaius' instructions led them deep into the forest, outside of Arthur's kingdom. He felt uneasy, leaving his people behind, but he knew he had no choice. The men didn't talk much as they rode for three days, into the hills of Aserdern. The mist was thick here, especially at dawn and Arthur woke up thinking it must have rained. On the fourth day they reached a riverbank, as Gaius had predicted. According to him, it was the river Glenling. Here, so the physician had said, began the realm of the druids. The horses pawed the ground nervously as Arthur surveyed the woods. They were silent, unmoving. Maybe even too still. He glanced at Lancelot, who was observing the surroundings as well, his hand on the hilt of his sword with forced casualty.
Arthur returned his attention to the other bank and nearly fell off his horse. There, still as though he had been there the whole time, stood a lone man. The skin on his face looked weathered and his expression was stern as he gazed upon the travelers. He was garbed in the traditional robes of the druids and Arthur could see a pendant hanging around his neck. He strongly suspected it was magical. He swallowed with anticipation. Once before in his life had he knowingly reached out to magicians for help; it had gone even more terribly wrong than he had initially thought. It had cost him dearly.
Arthur cleared his throat. "My name is Arthur Pendragon. I seek audience with the druids. We desire your help and advice. May I speak to your leader?"
"We know who you are, Lord of Camelot, and we know why you come. My name is Iseldir, and I speak for my people", the man answered, his eyes never leaving Arthur's face. The stare was making him nervous. Which was probably why that old man did it. "Leave your weapons and horses on your side of the river; we will tend to them. Then you may cross and will be heard."
Arthur nodded at Percival and Lancelot. They dismounted and lay their swords and daggers on the ground. Then, carefully stepping from stone to stone, the crossed the shallow stream. The druid watched in silence. When the knights reached the other shore, the druid looked at the forest and three young men, all garbed in the ragged druid fashion, appeared. Arthur tensed.
"We will blindfold you know and then take you to our camp", the druid announced. Arthur felt Percival stir beside him.
"That was not part of our arrangement", he protested sharply.
"It will happen like this, or not at all", stated the druid calmly. His men waited in silence.
"I cannot place my life into your hands, I have an obligation to my people to return safely to Camelot!"
"But you already have placed you life in my hand by coming here, Sir Arthur. And I too have an obligation; a poor leader I would truly be, if I allowed the ruler of Camelot to determine the exact location of our home. It is a great sign of trust from my side that I speak to you at all. You can leave any time you wish."
The man's gaze was unwavering as he waited. Arthur clenched his jaw, but saw no other way. He nodded jerkily. The younger druids stepped forward and gently, but firmly, pulled a cloth over Arthur's eyes. He could only hear as his knights must have been subjected to the same treatment. His breath came in quick bursts as he heard the men move around him and their leader give instructions in a low voice.
"My Lord, I am standing right in front of you", said a nervous, much higher voice. "Grab both my shoulders and lean on my when you stumble. I will lead you as safely as I can."
Arthur raised his arms obediently and awkwardly fumbled for the boy's shoulders. He flinched as the boy touched his hand in assistance. He felt the body beneath his hands stiffen. "We're going now, Sire. Beware, the ground is uneven."
Arthur couldn't tell how long this trip had taken- it must have been more than an hour. It was exhausting, to stumble blindly, every muscle at the ready to catch a fall that might occur any minute. Arthur could hear low cursing behind him. He felt in a mood to simply rip off his blindfold and be done with it, but the image of his people back at home kept him patient. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he heard other voices, and smelled smoke. They halted.
"You may remove your blindfolds, we have reached our destination. Thank you for humoring us."
Arthur pulled off the hated blindfold and blinked at the sudden light, looking around. He was standing at the edge of a camp not unlike his, but better fortified. People were gathering around him, men, women and children alike. They stood some paces away, observing him silently, children peaking around the legs of the adults. Despite himself, Arthur wondered if they had come to see the son of the man who had hunted them down with their own eyes. And he wondered how he appeared to them. He squared his shoulders and threw a glance at his men. They too were looking at the crowd, just as tense as he was. Arthur knew, should anything happen, they would be at the mercy of the druids and there was nothing any of them could do about it. He had to tread carefully.
"Come, I'll lead you to my quarters." Iseldir motioned for them to follow him. He guided them through the camp until the came to a big tent, that was leaning onto a big oak, cowering beneath it's wide canopy.
They entered it and found a wide, roughly hewn table with food and sweetened wine waiting for them. Iseldir motioned for them to sit. Silently, he poured them some wine and gestured towards the food. "Eat. You must be hungry. We will talk afterward."
Arthur gazed critically at the food, but his discomfort won against his mistrust. Following his lead, Percival and Lancelot dug in. Iseldir watched in silence, picking at a grape or two.
"You said you needed our help", he said after the knight's strongest hunger was sated.
"As you might have heard, Camelot has been conquered by two sorcerers," Arthur began, setting his goblet aside. Iseldir nodded in confirmation. "We cannot think of how to defeat them. Therefore we seek your counsel: How can Morgana and Cado be defeated? I realize it can't be done without magic, about which I know very little. If one of your spellcasters was willing to go into battle for us," Arthur took a deep breath, "Camelot would show it's gratitude, once it is under my control again."
Iseldir watched him, a small smile flickering around his lips.
"My, my. How the winds have changed. King Arthur is asking magical aid." He uttered a small laugh. Arthur exchanged a surprised look with Lancelot; this had been the strongest emotional response the druid had shown.
"Matters are not that simple, my Lord." The druid leaned forward and folded his hands. "Morgana has moderate powers, although her cunning is not to be underestimated. But Cado is an entirely different matter. His powers are immense and he is said to be mad."
Percival stirred and Lancelot chuckled.
"We do not posses the resources to defeat them both, even if we did desire to fight. I'm afraid there is nothing I can do."
"There must be something," Arthur argued, the familiar feeling of desperation clawing at his chest. "Isn't there a spell you can-"
"All of our warlocks combined would not possess enough power to defeat Cado," Iseldir stated.
"What about Merlin?", Lancelot jumped in. Iseldir turned his attention to him.
"Did you know about him?", he pressed on. Arthur, despite himself, leaned in, listening closely.
"Your friend, Sir Lancelot, has been known to us druids before he was born." Lancelot's brow crinkled in confusion. "We know him under the name of Emrys. His coming has been prophesied since the beginning of the world, his destiny carved into the very foundations of the lands. He himself has just begun to understand his role in all that will come. He will stand beside the Once and Future King, to rule over the land of Albion and bring peace to all men."
Arthur's neck prickled at the mention of Merlin's druid name. The way Iseldir spoke of his servant deeply unsettled him.
"He has disappeared", Lancelot confessed and described the events concerning Merlin's disappearance. The druid listened with rapt attention.
"But if your prophecies are true, then Merlin can't be dead, right? How else could they be true?", Lancelot asked hopefully.
"Again, knight, matters are not that simple. Every decision creates a new reality and when Emrys decided to engage in battle with Cado, he might have thrust us into one that is bereft of his presence." The druid stroked his beard, his gaze fixed thoughtfully on the table. Arthur's heart clenched as he heard his fears confirmed in that unfeeling manner.
"However", the druid continued, "from your description, it sounds as though Cado has used an extinction spell. Maybe he sensed Emrys' powers and feared what would happen should he kill them. I suspect he ejected Emrys from our world, forcing him into the spirit world, a timeless, endless place of ghosts and memories."
Arthur stared at Iseldir, unbelieving. And yet, he dared not ask the question.
"Does that mean he's dead?", Percival spoke up for the first time. Arthur held his breath.
"Not necessarily, no", Iseldir said. He began speaking again, but was interrupted by various sounds of relief. Arthur leaned back and breathed heavily, looking at the ceiling. He felt light-headed. Merlin was alive. Lancelot laughed, a hysterical note to it and slapped Percival's arm in glee. Iseldir surveyed them, amused.
"How can he be brought back?" Lancelot asked, his voice more determined than ever before. Arthur knew Lancelot would search far and wide if he had to, to find whatever it was they needed to bring Merlin back. He would have to beat Arthur to it.
"Emrys is caught outside this world, as I have said. But he is not meant to be there, his body has been magicked away, as well as his soul, before his time. There is a spell, I have never performed it yet. It is very complicated. And it requires a personal object, something close to Emrys. Something we can link him to."
Arthur looked at Lancelot, who was equally stumped. Merlin didn't have many possessions and none struck Arthur as particularly personal. And all of them were located in Camelot, almost impossible to obtain. But that was the lesser problem.
"What kind of personal object?" Arthur inquired. "Clothes, maybe tools...?"
Iseldir shook his head. "No. It must be an object that holds emotional significance for the subject. It can't just be anything. Something irreplaceable."
Arthur flexed his jaw, an idea occurred to him. He hesitated for a moment, but didn't see any other option. There was no time to waste; his people were dying.
"Can you use me?" Lancelot and Percival looked at him in astonishment, but Arthur ignored them, keeping his eyes fixed on Iseldir.
"It would be dangerous. You would be placed in direct proximity of the spirit world; it has never been done like this before. Anything could happen."
Arthur didn't flinch. "Will it bring Merlin back?"
Iseldir surveyed him, his stormy eyes unreadable. Arthur wondered what they looked like when he performed magic.
"Yes."
Thoughts? Concrit? Favourite lines?