"When you were growing up in the middle of nowhere, did you ever imagine you'd end up in someplace like this?"
Merlin chuckled and twined his fingers into Niniane's hair, resisting the urge to smooth it down. The early morning sunlight caught the flyaway strands, making them glow like an insubstantial crown around her head. The light hadn't quite reached her eyes, though, leaving them dark, like a pool in a deep forest glen. "No," he said, "I never imagined that I'd end up in a place like this. I always thought I'd grow up, become an herbalist like my mother, and live in her house once she was gone."
"Even with all your magic?"
"Even with all my magic," he said. "I knew it was a special sort of gift, but I didn't know how special until I came to Camelot, and Gaius set a few things straight for me."
"Oh." Niniane squirmed, snuggling deeper under the downy blankets that covered them both. She brushed her fingers up along his rib cage, drawing a shiver out of him before she rested her head against his shoulder. "It must have been terribly lonely there. I can't imagine what it would have been like, growing up with no one knowing the truth about you."
"My mother knew," Merlin said. "She taught me the very basics of control and how to hide my magic. And Will knew, too."
"Who's Will?"
"He is- was- my friend." It was the essential truth, but didn't quite cover how close they had been, once upon a time. Will had been a best friend, confidante, and big brother all rolled into one. It still hurt every time he stopped and realized that Will was dead, and that he had used his dying words to protect Merlin. "He died a few years ago, when a group of bandits attacked Ealdor. Arthur, Gwen, and…. and Morgana, if you can believe it, had come with me to try to fight them off. We all did the best we could, but we couldn't fight them off by ourselves. I had to use magic to win the day. As he lay dying, Will claimed that he was the sorcerer who defeated the bandits. And then he was gone, and I never had the chance to thank him for protecting me like that."
"I think he knows. Somewhere, beyond this world in the Land of the Dead, he knows." She raised herself up on one arm and kissed him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring up sad memories."
"It's alright. The sad memories come back so easily. Sometimes it's hard to remember they they're outweighed by the good ones," Merlin said.
"I understand. My parents died when I was a child," she said. "I remember the night when they were taken away from me so well that it almost drowns out everything else about them. Sometimes it's an effort to remember my mother braiding my hair, or when my father would put me up on his shoulders so I could pull the best apples off the trees. He seemed so tall. I didn't think there was anyone in the world who could be as tall as he was. And there was certainly no woman in the world who was prettier than my mother."
"Well, I never knew your mother, but I think you'd surpass her for beauty," Merlin said. He wrapped an arm around her waist and drew her close, letting her warmth sink into his body and breathing deeply to let the sweet scent of her hair fill his nose so he would never forget it.
"Flatterer," she accused him with a smile. Her fingertips traced the hollow of his collarbone. "I hope I've only given you good memories."
Merlin grinned. "You have. Very good memories." That drew a silvery giggle from her.
They lay quietly for a while, listening to the distant sounds as Camelot slowly woke up. Somewhere outside the room and down the hallway, someone laughed and a door slammed. A gust of wind rattled the tall windows in their frames. Clouds raced across the face of the sun, weaving patterns of light and shadow throughout the room. The sunlight wouldn't last for long, Merlin knew, so they basked in whatever amount they could get.
"It's so cold out there," Niniane said suddenly. "I know it's silly, but it almost feels like we'll never see summer again. There's been so much snow and wind. It's not like it was when I was little."
"Where all did you go in the winter?"
"Here and there," she said. "Last winter, it was Helva by way of Blackheath. But we usually ended up in the southern parts of Nemeth, near where our cousins the Britons are still hidden away among the mists and the trees. I saw them once, about ten years ago. Their leader was a woman, and she was the fiercest person I'd ever seen. It was like she could look straight into your soul and know everything about you. I only caught a glimpse of her, but I'll never forget her. It was like coming face to face with a wolf."
"She does sound fearsome. I'm not sure if I'd like to meet her or not."
"I don't think you'd have to worry, Emrys. If she's even still alive, she would probably want to meet you. Not like me. I was just a silly little girl wandering about in places I shouldn't have been."
"Maybe she would, maybe she wouldn't," Merlin said. If this woman was as insightful as Niniane claimed, he wasn't sure he would want her poking around in his head or his soul. "What's the south of Nemeth like?" he asked to change the subject.
"It's beautiful," Niniane breathed. Her eyes went distant as she remembered. "There are high, rocky cliffs that fall straight down into the sea, and the waters are so blue that sometimes, it's hard to tell what is sky and what is water. The forests are deeper than the ones here. They feel older, if you understand me. I've been to Broceliande before, and it feels old, too, but it's also angry and watchful. Like it would strike out at you if you let your guard down. But in Nemeth, the forests are… content. And secretive, too."
"The hills are very high there," she continued, "and they fall down into deep valleys that seem to always be full of mists. It's a mysterious place. And warm, too. It never feels truly cold there, like it does here in the winter. Iseldir said it was something about the wind that rises up from the sea. We called it the Summer Country."
Merlin heard a ringing in his ears, like two broken pieces of a whole had suddenly come together and sealed themselves back into one. He sat up and stared down at her, heedless of the chilly air that rushed in when he pulled the blankets away. "You called it the what?"
Niniane shivered and grabbed for the blankets. "The Summer Country. We called it that because it was warm, even in the winter. Why?"
He looked away, searching his memory for the prophetic words he had spoken in the summer, when Morgana had appeared before him in the forest without warning. "'To the shores and deepening mists of the Summer Country'. It was a prophecy I made- that Morgana and I made. Last summer, when that woodsman accused me of treason. I spent weeks searching through every map and every book I could think of, but I never even found a whisper of it."
"That's because it's just the name we gave to it," Niniane said. She clutched the blankets to her chest as she sat up. "We have no books or maps that we take with us, Emrys. Just the knowledge we carry up here," she said, tapping his temple with a slender finger.
"I'm glad you carry it with you," Merlin said. He kissed her fingers and then her lips, giddy in the moment of revelation.
Niniane laughed. "I can show it to you, if you'd like."
"It's awfully snowy out to go on a journey."
"On a map!" She swatted his arm before slipping out of the bed to retrieve her clothes.
He moved to follow her, then stopped. She was too beautiful, and the moment was too perfect to hurry through it. So he stayed still, watching her move, and studying how the light fell on her pale skin and the way her dark hair traced the outlines of her body. He wanted to remember it all, because it would be over all too soon and the gods only knew what the future would bring.
"Emrys? What's wrong?"
Merlin blinked and took a breath. "Nothing. I was just thinking."
"Thinking about what?" She said, rolling her shoulders as she pulled the bodice of her gown into place and straightened the sleeves.
"About how beautiful you are," he said.
She grinned. "You've certainly gotten better at being charming since yesterday. Now hurry up and get dressed. If we tarry too long, they're going to start looking for us and I'd like to hear as little from Linnet about it as possible. I swear. That woman knows better than anyone how to make a person blush."
They were dressed and out the door a few minutes later. A quick spell put the room back into perfect order, and a bit more magic told them when the hallway was clear so they could make a break for the library without their presence being commented upon. Merlin said a quick word of greeting to Geoffery as they slipped past him and into the dusty map room.
"Nemeth. I need Nemeth," Merlin muttered as he gently shuffled through a collection of heavy parchments. "Rheged, Alba.. Eire? How did that get in there? Whoever used these last apparently didn't know how to put things away," he said, shaking his head.
"I'll laugh if I find out it was you," Niniane said. "Is this one it? I think I recognize that coastline." She tugged at one map whose fading edge stuck out from underneath an old sailing chart.
"That's it." Merlin put the chart aside so they could pull the map out and lay it on the table. It wasn't the newest of documents; Daelbeth still appeared as a city and not as the ruin it now was, but the landforms hadn't changed, and neither had the location of Nemeth's capitol city.
Niniane traced her finger over the parchment, brow furrowed in concentration. "We always follow the edge of the White Mountains as we head south. From stone circle here," she pointed to a blank spot where there were no towns and the forest pulled away to the east, "we turn a little east to go through Gedref, and then briefly into Deorham before reaching Nemeth. The land rises a bit here, and we follow that along the settled lands and farms before we reach the coastal valleys that we call the Summer Country.
"It's said that the Isle of Mora, right here," she said, pointing to a little island not far off Nemeth's southern coast," is where most of the Britons live. I've never been there, though. On a clear day you can see it from the cliffs, but there's usually so much fog that it feels more like a myth. What is it you're looking for?" She looked up at him.
"I don't know," Merlin said. "All the prophecy said was that old magics would be reawakened, 'from the storm-tossed seas of the Isle of the Blessed to the deepening mists of the Summer Country'."
"Huh." She chewed her lip for a moment. "Perhaps the Britons will come out of hiding, then. I know the world sees them as more legends than people, but they're there. I know they are. I've seen them. Iseldir said they started disappearing into the mists when the Romans invaded long ago. Those who remained in the Five Kingdoms departed at the beginning of the Great Purge."
"What does that mean, though?" Merlin asked. "'Disappearing into the mists'. Surely they weren't counting on fog to hide them forever?"
"No, I don't think that's how it went. But if Iseldir ever explained it, I either wasn't there or I wasn't listening," she said, a rosy blush coloring her cheeks. "Perhaps you'll be able to ask him when my people return to Camelot in the spring."
"Yes," Merlin said, staring at the map and mentally marking the path Niniane had indicated. "I just hope that whatever I'm supposed to do there- assuming I'm supposed to do anything at all- doesn't happen before then."
"If it does happen, I'll go with you. We can figure it out together," she said and kissed him on the cheek.
Someone cleared his throat behind them. "I thought I'd find you here."
Merlin turned, startled. Gwaine leaned against the doorway, his arms folded across his chest and a smirk on his face. "Linnet told me that the queen's looking for you, Niniane. And Arthur's been pestering everyone about your whereabouts, Merlin. I told him that if you weren't in your chambers, you'd probably be in the library. And here you both are."
"Yes, you've caught us red-handed," Merlin said. "Congratulations."
Niniane poked him in the ribs. "What did Her Majesty want? Did Linnet say?"
Gwaine shrugged. "Something about herbs, I think."
"I'd better go, then. I'll see you later," She rolled to her tiptoes and gave Merlin a quick kiss on the lips before hurrying away.
Gwaine watched her go, then turned back to Merlin, tsking and shaking his head. "What's the matter with you, mate?"
"What do you mean?"
"Niniane's a beautiful girl, and she's crazy about you. But when you get her alone at last, you take her to the library?" He reached out and punched Merlin lightly on the shoulder. "We really need to work on your courtship skills."
"There's nothing wrong with my 'courtship skills'," Merlin said. He ducked away from Gwaine's grasp and set about putting the maps away properly.
"Merlin, if you were a normal sort of fellow, I would have discovered you in bed with her. Instead, I found you two looking at a bunch of dusty old maps. That is nothing resembling a normal courtship."
"Well, neither Niniane nor I are particularly normal, are we?" He set the last of the maps back on its shelf and magicked the dust away from the room.
Gwaine opened his mouth to speak, then stopped and reconsidered. "I suppose you're right. But promise me that sometime you'll make an effort to court her the way men normally do?"
Merlin kept a straight face as memories of the night before flowed through his mind. "All right, then. I promise."
"Good." Gwaine clapped him on the shoulder and directed him out of the library. "Let's get going. Arthur's waiting."