1001 NE, Spring

The Gateway was strong for the journey from Saldaea to Kandor, even if Nutir was grey-faced and thin-lipped from effort in the end. Nutir had sent Merlin on ahead through to a field near Nutir's sister's farm, to learn the location for the last leg to Fal Dara. Merlin propped his bed roll against a rock and went through training exercises, using the One Power to map the area quickly. After a day he knew it enough so that when the shimmering line appeared and snapped open, he was ready with the weaves for the next Gateway.

Merlin waited until the first batch of soldiers were through, setting up a perimeter around the Travelling grounds, then he wove the new Gateway. Nutir came through and stood beside him, a bead of sweat trickling down his hairline.

Gaius came over to them once he was through the gate, a rolled bundle in his hand.

"Here," he said, passing it to Merlin. "It'll make the time pass." The bundle spilled open in his hand to show some dice. Gaius farewelled them both, clasping Merlin on the shoulder, giving it a quick squeeze. Kullyn was behind him, readying defensive weaves as he strode towards the second Gateway. There had been no sightings of Trollocs or Fades, but with each Gateway they were growing closer to the Blight.

The sun crept slowly over the sky. They tossed dice half-heartedly, playing for small coin. Even through the Void the day was hot and airless, the mental trick of not sweating almost giving way to the increasing heat. Halfway through, Merlin saw Nutir flick open the top couple of buttons on his coat. Maintaining the weave was almost effortless except for the One Power coursing through his body. He couldn't feel it taking out of him yet, but he knew the moment he let go of the One Power he'd be useless with exhaustion for the day.

Nutir looked at Merlin over a dice throw, considering. "You were the one who found the bonding weave, yes?"

Merlin nodded. "Asha'man Logain refined the weave, showed it to the men. He discovered the extra bit after I left with al'Thor."

"But you were the one who discovered the bond, to begin with." Nutir picked up the dice and bounced them in his palm. He looked over at Merlin. "High Lord Arthur knew when the Draghkar attacked; no-one else saw it. He knew when your weaving rebounded on you and left you unable to channel; he can't wield the One Power, so he didn't see the weaves like Kullyn and I did."

Merlin watched the busy Gateways and the shimmering curtain obscuring the way to Fal Dara. He said nothing, throat clenched tight, feeling far from it all in the Void. This wasn't something he could have foreseen.

"You bonded him? Did the Dragon Reborn ask you to do that? I've never heard of an Aes Sedai bonding a woman ..." Nutir said. "I did wonder if Morgana Sedai had bonded him as Warder; he has the look. You," Nutir swallowed, "you're ... close ... to the High Lord. Is that why...?"

Merlin shook his head. "No-- No, it was from before I joined the Black Tower," he said, a roughness in his throat. "The first time I channelled."

"You knew him." Nutir absorbed this. "You were his--friend. In Tear, where they bundle up girls who channel and send them away."

Merlin was silent, watching his Gateway with a fierceness. The hand on his shoulder made him start; Nutir looked at him with an understanding. Merlin turned from the knowledge there, in time to see Arthur came through the Gateway with the last men, his lord-generals. Arthur was looking around, his eyes scanning the dry, brown landscape. His gaze settled on Merlin and the hand on his shoulder. Arthur shifted his weight in Merlin's direction then stopped, nodding tightly to him, and turned back his men. Once an honour guard had gone through the Gateway he took one last look at Merlin, flickered a glance at Nutir, then stepped through the Gateway to Fal Dara.

The last man stepped through Nutir's Gateway. They staggered from their crouches to their feet, Nutir standing straighter than he needed to for a moment, blinking. Nutir released the One Power once he was through the Gateway, swaying with exhaustion. Merlin grabbed his arm before he fell, and suddenly Gaius was there.

"There's a camp of Asha'man," said Gauis as both kept a discreet hold of Nutir, half-propping him up as they walked along. "Your tent's set up in their camp."

They made it to the tent without Nutir falling over. Merlin thought they would both fall to the ground had the camp had been any further. Convincing Gaius he had no need of herbs or Aes Sedai Healing took what little energy he had left. They were outside Fal Dara, the walls high and grey above them. There was a tent city stretching out from the walls, a mass of colour and grey as far as his eye could see. He saw men and women from many nations, including Seanchan, noticeable from their slurring speech, and shoved it all off into the corner of his mind. He was too tired to know where they were, and too tired find Arthur's army.

A young Asha'man Soldier poked his head into the tent shortly after they had flopped down onto their respective pallets. "Asha'man Logain requests your presence in the morning," he said. "He's to be found in the tent near the gate to Fal Dara."

"We'll be there," said Nutir tiredly, as Merlin drifted off.

He was woken by someone stepping into the tent and quickly wove a ball of Fire for light. Squinting against the sudden brightness, he saw a man shielding his face with his arm before Merlin felt and saw that it was Arthur.

"Arthur," he said blurrily. "Did you want something, my Lord?"

"Come, get up." Arthur grabbed the bundle by his pallet. "You should have found someone to show you were the army had camped. Come. It's a short way."

Nutir was watching them, his eyes shining in the reflected light. "Go, Emrys. I'll come get you when it's time to meet Logain." He turned over, towards the tent and away from the light.

Merlin stumbled over the unfamiliar ground, following Arthur, still tired from the One Power that day. He could now feel it being wielded all around him, could see the strangeness of shields woven with saidin and saidar.

He stumbled up against Arthur when he stopped to open the tent, steadied himself, and stepped through. He quickly sought a pallet; he wanted sleep. Now. He looked around again. There was nothing but a small tub in the corner, a drying cloth folded beside it.

"Arthur" Merlin began.

Arthur drew him to the bed. Merlin let himself be pushed down onto it. "There's room enough for both of us," said Arthur. "It was a long day; you'll be wanting use of that." He nodded at the tub.

Merlin undressed absently, taking care of things quickly with the washcloth. He was so tired he could barely stand, and shuffled to the bed, crashing face-down. His body was still damp from his half-hearted wash, the thin film of water cooling him. He was halfway to sleep, the feeling of Arthur through the bond quietly comforting, then he felt the mattress dip. Lips kissed the back of his neck, he turned sleepily, fondly, and met Arthur's lips.

They moved slowly. Arthur bent over kissed his way down Merlin's body, his hands trailing down it. He held Merlin's hips onto the bed to stop an upwards thrust, and took his cock into his mouth to suck him off slowly, a hand coming down to cup his balls. Merlin shuddered with the feeling, and opened his eyes to look down at Arthur. Their eyes met as Arthur moved on his cock, and he felt a wave of tenderness overcome him, a burst love for the man he'd once sworn to serve all his life. The feeling went through the bond; echoing back at him was a triumphant exultation. Arthur moved up and kissed him, hard, holding Merlin's jaw in his hand. Merlin reached up and pulled him down closer, kissing along his jaw, biting at his lip.

Arthur moved up along him, rubbing their cocks together with one hand, his hand slippery with oil.

"Yes," Merlin gasped, thrusting his hips a little into the movement, and then pushed Arthur back onto the mattress. He looked around for the oil Arthur had been using, grabbed some, and poured a generous amount into his hands. One hand on himself and one on Arthur, he pumped them together, rhythm growing uneven with arousal, watching Arthur's face grow flushed. Merlin wanted to be in him, now, and he stopped at the verge of coming, dropping his chin onto his chest, gasping.

Merlin moved his hand down to Arthur's arse, fingering at his entrance. Their eyes locked and Arthur moaned when he thrust two fingers in, scissoring his fingers and fucking him. Merlin stroked his own cock in readiness.

"I'm going to have you," he said, a thrill running through him. Arthur had never let him, before.

Merlin moved carefully, sliding in slowly, gasping at the squeezing sensation around him. He held Arthur's thigh up as he moved in carefully. Arthur moaned and hid his eyes from view as he moved to meet him. Merlin loved Arthur and now Arthur knew this too, and he couldn't make himself care; with every thrust he felt like he was coming home, safe for the first time in years.

His orgasm came over him quickly, and Arthur followed him soon after, Merlin's hand bringing him there. Merlin lay half on him, more tired than ever. The thought of Arthur now knowing how he felt crossed his mind, but tiredness swept it away, worn out. Arthur ran his fingers gently through Merlin's hair. The bond was hardly muffled, and through it, under the worries and tiredness coming over from Arthur, he felt a contentment and, he was startled to notice, love. Merlin moved himself up a little and looked down at Arthur.

"You love me?"

Arthur looked up at the ceiling, avoiding his eyes. He took a while to reply. "I thought you knew that. From the," he waved his free hand between them. "I thought you knew, and." His shrug was tiny, almost not there at all.

"No. I learned to completely muffle the bond. I can't feel anything through it's when like that," Merlin said.

Arthur gave a little jolt of surprise. "You weren't only hiding yourself from me? It goes both ways?"

"I thought to give you privacy," said Merlin.

"Don't hide it completely," Arthur said after a little while. "It makes me aware of you being missing, there but not there."

They lay there for a while, Merlin's tiredness washed away. Arthur's breathing caught a little, several times.

"What?" Merlin said when he could stand it no longer.

"Where did you go, after? When you were in Illian? I looked there for you," Arthur said.

"You were angry. I became a Hunter for the Horn and went to the Borderlands. I thought you were going to kill me. I could feel you coming closer, angrier by the day." Merlin could hardly remember those few days, when he was lost in despair and fear, certain he was going to die.

Arthur pushed him off and sat at the edge of the bed. Merlin could feel the anger coming off him, and under it, hurt. "You thought I would kill you? After ...? You-- thought I would kill you."

"Arthur"

He spun back and threw Merlin's hand off, crouching low towards him. "You thought I would kill you, after years of-- your friendship," Arthur growled. "I could never have" Arthur stood, shrugging on some clothes quickly, stamping into boots. "I'll see you in the morning." He shook his head, grabbed at his sword. The violence he threw the tent flap back with made it stay.

Lance ducked his head in, saw Merlin on the bed, and quickly let it fall with a muttered apology.

Merlin thought he'd never sleep, but found himself being woken in the morning by Kullyn, face carefully blank, not looking around at the disordered tent. He quickly got dressed and met with Nutir outside, who looked far better with a night's sleep. With the bond only partially shrouded he could feel Arthur off in the distance, focussed, through the stone walls and into Fal Dara. Merlin thought he was perhaps with the lords and the al'Thor; surely they wouldn't make the Dragon Reborn sleep in a tent.

Asha'man Logain wanted briefing, and set Kullyn and Nutir to training new recruits. They were making every man and woman undergo training in the One Power if they could possibly learn. The Darkfriends had their numbers of Dreadlords increasing, and those fighting for the Light needed everyone who could channel a lick, even if they could only barely create a whisper of breeze.

"You're still to stay close to High Lord Pendragon," said Logain. "A waste of your abilities. Have you ferreted out any new weaves? Al'Thor has seen fit to show us some more weaves we can use in the fight against the Shadow. Join the advanced group later today and you'll learn Deathgates, Blossoms of Fire."

A horn sounded off in the distance, a call carried again nearby, and then even nearer. Logain was holding saidin all of a sudden, and Merlin followed suit.

"Trollocs!" came a shout after the horn ended. There was a scramble of men outside. Logain pushed past the tent flap, looking out. He turned to Merlin. "Emrys, find your High Lord. Your Warder," he said, on a sharp note.

Nutir must have told him. Merlin took pushed past, and tried to run for the stone walls, his way was slowed by men running in every direction to join their bands. He was taken aback at the number of armed women in breeches running around, too; he'd never seen the like before. They were short, he noticed as he went past; probably Cairhienin.

He pounded up stairs, past topknotted guards, the only Shienarans he'd seen so far. He could feel Arthur up ahead, and soon found him with al'Thor and a few other men; he recognised Bashere, Ituralde, Bryne, and Cauthon, half his head shaved and--fingernails lacquered?--at first glance. Al'Thor was collecting the Great Generals around him for Tarmon Gai'don.

Al'Thor rounded on him with the beginnings of a snarl, filled with the One Power. Merlin stopped and waited until he turned back to the window. Arthur shot him a sharp look and beckoned to him unobtrusively. He went over to join them and looked out the window. Where the land had been brown with dying grasses yesterday was now a roiling mass of black. He couldn't see them clearly, not without the Void, but he knew what they were. Trollocs. Myrddraal. There were paler beings on what looked like horses. Dreadlords.

He could feel saidin being wielded out there, from under the fort and out.

"Blood and ashes," said General Cauthon. "Rand, I'll be with the men." The other generals said much the same, and then Merlin was following Arthur at a fast clip back to the tents. He could see other people peel off to follow the other generals as they left, a damane and sul'dam clearly following Cauthon, yet none flicked eyes their way.

Merlin wove a thin shield of air about them as they went. Arthur headed for his horse, reins held loosely by the waiting farrier. Merlin scrambled for another, unwrapping the reins himself, and quickly followed after. The Trollocs were chanting in their hard voices, an eerie sound from thousands of throats, all chanting for the death of men, calling for food, the delights of fresh men from the Trolloc cookpot.

Arthur held back from the melee, to Merlin's relief, directing his generals with sharp, quick movements. The sections went out, fodder for the mill. There was little hope against Trollocs and Myrddraal on foot. The forces met together in a crash, steel meeting Trolloc swords, the dull thunk of maces hitting flesh. Screaming of the wounded was overshadowed by hoarse, defiant cries and Trollocs howling for blood.

Merlin had hardly any time to pay attention to the fight with the Shadowspawn--balls of fire and exploding earth started falling all around him. Asha'man were along the castle walls, weaving, and unfamiliar weaves began appearing amongst the Shadowspawn. A strange form of Gateway appeared, opening and closing amongst the Trollocs, leaving carnage where Shadowspawn had been. Fire streamed down, hitting targets, sometimes taking out humans. It was only then that he noticed that there weren't only Trollocs fighting against them--Darkfriends counted amongst their number, sliding unnoticed amongst all as they killed here, there, dying soldiers of the Light in their wake. One was close to Arthur before he noticed, at his stirrup with knife in hand. His eyes wanted to slide away from him. A Gray Man. Merlin threw a weave out at the man, killing him just as he'd lain a hand upon Arthur's ankle.

Arthur kicked the Gray Man away and looked around, nodding at Merlin, and swung away to engage another Trolloc. Merlin channelled, copying the weave the other Asha'man were using and taking away the Shadowspawn advantage. He noticed Morgana Sedai amongst the men, and after that other Aes Sedai, the faint tingle on his skin from their channelling showing them to be responsible for some of the Shadowspawn deaths. The Three Oaths were to their disadvantage here; he surely couldn't imagine not being able to channel except for feeling in mortal danger.

Whenever he pinpointed a Myrddraal amongst the fighting he channelled Fire and Earth, watching them explode in a shower of black viscous liquid and maggoty white flesh. He'd strike lucky sometimes; some were bound to their Fist of Trollocs, and Shadowspawn all around would start twitching, flail, and die.

A line of sweat slid down his back, his concentration wavering between killing those coming close and to Arthur some distance away, now spattered red, his fair hair matted down with blood and sweat. He could feel Arthur had a cut on his lower leg, the heaviness growing in his sword arm. Merlin turned his horse, ready to draw closer, throwing balls of fire and bursting earth beneath the Myrddraal drawing near to Morgana.

"Merlin." A strong sense of saidin came from behind him. He swung around.

Mordred smiled at him toothily. "You chose."

Pain. Merlin shuddered with it, needles clawing into his skull and fires burning over his skin. They skittered over the Void and he struggled to hold onto the torrent of saidin. He barely held on, weaving unconsciously and throwing it at Mordred. The pain left and he blurrily saw Mordred stagger on his feet, then turn. Merlin gasped and clutched at his mount, blinking, thinking for a moment that Mordred was fleeing. For a moment.

Pain. Not his own this time. Merlin threw wave after wave of fire at Mordred, only for his weaves to be cut and rebound upon him each time. The pain was growing in the back of his mind, a weakening. Feeling helpless, he sharpened a flow of Spirit and threw it at Mordred, slicing through the his weaves, slowly. Mordred clutched at his head, moaning, then the flow of fighting took him from sight. For a moment the cessation of pain had him think Arthur was. Dead.

Merlin swung around and looked for Arthur. He couldn't see him anywhere, but he could feel weakness. He tapped his foot against his mount's side. The horse, skittish with the smell of blood filling its nostrils, shied. Merlin swore, dismounting, and ran, slid, and tripped over the slick, uneven ground. It was growing to be a too familiar feeling, seeking out Arthur when he was injured in battle. Merlin found him on his feet, fighting, and his moment of relief nearly had Merlin's head removed for him. A soldier grinned at him tightly, withdrawing his sword from the fallen Shadowspawn. Lance, he recognised, and the euphoria of Arthur being alive had him grinning back at Lance before Merlin turned back to face their foe.

The numbers reaching them grew fewer until he could see only the vanguard fighting the remaining Trollocs with Myrddraal to push them. Merlin left off channelling at them, feeling the Asha'man hurling huge amounts of saidin at the forces of Shadow. The earth was crumbling under the Trollocs' feet, bursting upwards in unfamiliar weaves; the Dragon Reborn was harrying the remainder out of sight of the walls of Fal Dara.

Arthur watched his soldiers, and from the way his eyes moved over them slowly Merlin knew he was counting numbers. More had survived the unexpected encounter than he would have thought possible, especially with the bulk of the forces already at Tarwin's Gap.

"So close to Fal Dara," Cauthon said when they got back close to the stone walls. He had some spatters on him and a tear on his sleeve. "Pendragon, it was a good thing you arrived when you did. The Band of the Red Hand is good for anything, but even they would have been overwhelmed by those numbers. Easily fifty Fists."

Arthur wiped off some blood sliding down into his eye. "Only a taste of what's to come, Cauthon. You fought well."

Cauthon looked Merlin over. "So you're that Asha'man," he laughed. "You've tweaked the nose of Aes Sedai by bonding a man. They swore it couldn't be done until Rand told them about you and Pendragon. Put their noses out of joint."

They stamped up the set of stairs while Arthur and Cauthon discussed the Shadowspawn attack. Merlin listened with half an ear, paying more attention to the saidin being woven above them, lessening in quantity. It must nearly be over.

Everyone in the room was covered in grime, clothes torn and bloody. Al'Thor was the only one clean, framed by the window and the last of fighting from beyond. The amount of saidin he was holding was tremendous, and yet he stood there, hard and resolute.

"Tomorrow," he said. "Tomorrow is Tarmon Gai'don."