Thanks to bedshaped3 for beta'ing! And thank you for reviewing!
AN: If there's one thing I really hate about Merlin, it's its inconsistency with places and persons (namely other kings). I'm mean, that very hard on us fanfic writers. For instance, the Isle of the Blessed, how many days is that from Camelot? Or what kingdom lies across its northern borders? From this chapter on, I'm bringing in the spatial element, and I hope it doesn't confuse you.
Chapter 7: Letters and Leaves
It was not unheard of to be woken up for a council meeting this early in the morning. In times of great distress and turmoil, Leon often spent his nights alternating between the castle ramparts and the council room. What was rather peculiar about today was that the King himself was standing at the end of his bed.
"Rise and shine, Leon or do I have to use this?" Arthur said cheerfully holding up a cup. Leon definitely didn't like that smirk one bit – or the water that splashed dangerously over the cup's edge.
"I'm awake." Leon growled and sat up. "What are you doing here?" He asked, barely catching the shirt and boots Arthur threw at him.
"Got an urgent message. It's the second in less than a day. Third if you count the Great Dragon's warning." Arthur answered, absentmindedly searching the room for something.
"Have you slept at all?" Leon enquired, pulling his shirt over his head. He was wide awake now and immediately noticed the dark circles underneath Arthur's eyes.
"Why does everybody keep asking me that? Guinevere first, now you. I don't think my sleeping habits are of any public concern." Arthur said with irritation and threw Leon's red cloak towards him.
"We're not the public, Arthur." Leon informed him as he tied his cloak around his neck.
"Fine, just go and wake up the rest. I'll arrange breakfast at the Round Table. Oh, and wake Merlin last." Arthur ordered walking out the door.
"Whatever for?" Leon asked confused balancing on one foot as he put on his boots.
Because I'm worried about him, Arthur thought, because Merlin was acting like everything was okay, which Arthur could relate to. If he had to retell the death of his father twice in one day, he wouldn't have slept well either.
"Because then I can lecture him for being late, making my day a tad bit brighter." And with that Arthur left, leaving behind a rather dumbfounded knight. With a sigh, Leon spotted his socks on the chair nearby and took his boots off again.
"You're late. Again." Arthur stated annoyed when his manservant burst into the chamber a half hour later. Everybody was already there, happily eating breakfast. The Round Table was filled with platters and dishes, each one of them containing the finest food Camelot could offer. There were different kinds of bread, bacon, eggs – boiled or scrambled – butter, various fruits like grapes, pears and apples.
"That's not fair. Leon woke me up only ten minutes ago." Merlin defended himself as he sat down quickly.
"Even Gwaine was here on time." Arthur continued his lecture.
"So what, these meetings have become a communal thing now? Sharing breakfast? Next we'll be singing songs." Merlin wondered out loud sounding very tired and bitter all of a sudden. "Not now, Gwaine." He added when the knight was about to open his mouth.
"Geez, you're grumpy." Arthur remarked with a frown. His earlier suspicions were proven correct as he let his gaze linger on his servant. Merlin looked beat. He wasn't the only one. No one could decide who looked more run-down: Arthur or Merlin.
"Arthur, you've lived by that word for more than a month. Parading around the castle as if you were misery itself, while everything joyful and happy withered in your path." Merlin argued.
"True." Arthur glared at Gwaine, who quickly shut his mouth again.
"So if we're not here to talk about my mood, which would be flattering if it weren't so early, can we please get to business? Some of us actually have work to do." Merlin said annoyed, shocking everyone around the table again with his abrupt behaviour. Not that Merlin noticed, he actually took some bread and started to eat like nothing happened.
"Okay then," Arthur started hesitantly, "we decided yesterday that Morgana is up to something-"
"Probably." Gwaine mumbled, in his own attempt to break the silence.
"So we have two options. One, to try to find out what she's up to or two, to wait for the sudden but inevitable attack."
"I thought we were already doing that." Merlin remarked, biting in an apple.
"All in favour for option one, raise your hand." Arthur carried on. Everybody raised their hands except…
"Gwaine." Arthur sighed, sounding very stern.
"What? I like surprises." The knight grinned, motioning for Merlin to throw him an apple.
"As you all know I've been busy setting up contacts within Camelot, but also in the neighbouring kingdoms. Last night," Arthur briefly paused watching another apple fly through the air, "a messenger arrived from Nortcliff."
"I didn't see anyone arrive...because I was in my bed, sleeping." Merlin blurted, quickly adding the last part when Arthur eyed him suspiciously.
"Very informative Merlin. Now –"
"Who did you sent there?" Galahad interjected, catching the latest apple Merlin threw. The king sighed and rubbed his eyes. He was seriously fighting the urge to throw one of these bloody apples himself at the next interruption. Guinevere wouldn't approve though.
"No one, the message was from Tristan." Arthur sighed, running his hand through his hair while glancing at Gwen. With that information the Round Table was propelled into a collective silence.
Ever since Isolde died, Tristan had been a broken man. The hole in his heart was soon replaced by a blazing fire that slowly consumed the rest of him. The day after the funeral, he left with only one goal: to find the one responsible for her death. To find Morgana.
"Tristan was very adamant in his letter, but he didn't give me much information. The best course of action is to check it out ourselves. Volunteers?" Arthur asked and gazed around the table.
"What was the message?" Merlin asked.
"It said 'I'm going to kill the witch' signed Tristan." Arthur read out loud.
"That's direct." Gwaine commented.
"What are the chances of Tristan actually succeeding?" Leon wondered.
"Highly unlikely." Gaius answered.
"I don't mind going." Gwaine spoke up. "I'm pretty familiar with the town, well parts of it. I may even have some contacts who can point me in the right direction if the circumstances are favourable."
"You mean, if they're sober." Merlin commented knowing his friend all too well.
"That's what I said." Gwaine retorted.
"Okay, so who wants to accompany Gwaine? Not all at once please…"
"If you can spare me, I'll go." Leon offered before Percival had the opportunity to speak up. "With any luck I'll be able to persuade him to come back with us. Chances are that Morgana will find her way back here eventually."
"Excellent, I'm sure we'll manage for a couple of days." Arthur assured and glanced through the stacks of paper in front of him.
"Now a different matter entirely: Elyan's letter. Luckily it's more informative than Tristan's. Queen Annis is withdrawing troops from her inland borders to strengthen Caerleon's coast. For the last few weeks, several villages were raided by hordes of barbarians. They destroyed whole towns before disappearing in the sea again. For the most part, the raiders take cattle, grain and riches, often burning the empty houses to the ground – there have even been some reports of abduction. Elyan tells me Caerleon's council have no idea where they are coming from and if it's a single raiding party or the first battle of a new war."
Arthur paused, giving everyone time to let this news sink in. They had all seen horrors in the past. It didn't take much imagination to picture Caerleon's ordeal. During the night the king had reread Elyan's words over and over again. He wrote very vividly for a blacksmiths son. Arthur had but to close his eyes to smell the burning wood, to feel the sea wind bringing death, to fear that horizon...
"The fact that we've received three ominous messages doesn't necessarily mean everything is connected. Elyan wrote this three days ago retelling events that occurred as far as weeks ago. But I would be a bad king not to consider all the facts and you a bad council."
"It can be farfetched indeed, but that doesn't change the fact that this is happening as well. It would be unwise to concentrate on one warning and neglect the others." Gaius advised.
"Our coast isn't that large compared to Caerleon's, but it is a weakness. The raiders may move to Camelot next. We must prepare for that as well." Leon raised, knowing very well that Camelot's defences were concentrated on the borders with neighbouring kingdoms, not at the coast.
"Do they request help?" Percival asked.
"Not at the moment." Gwen answered having read the letter as well, "but if the raids continue, food may grow short. The harvest has just been brought in. In a month we may experience the first frost. If it's destroyed or taken the people in those villages will have nothing left."
"Right, Leon, how many knights can we pull from our borders without appearing weak?" Arthur informed. At the moment no other kingdom was a threat but that could change rapidly.
"Two dozen from the northern borders, a couple dozen more from the east. But it would take at least a week for them to reach the coast." Leon answered thinking out loud.
"What if we move knights from the city to the coast and then await for the new arrivals? It would give us both time and manpower." Arthur contemplated.
"It does, but it also leaves the city weakened for a few days." Leon agreed, it would be a possibility...
"Okay, then we'll send thirty knights from here, no more. They'll carry extra weapons to arm the villagers. A fisherman or peasant who's about to lose his home can be extremely dangerous. Right, Merlin?" Arthur glanced to his right for a second, remembering his first journey to the Ealdor, now so many years ago."Once the reinforcements from the north and east arrive then we can decide what to do with them."
"Now about Caerleon, we may need their help in the future so we will offer ours now. Percival, I want you to take ten other knights and head towards Caerleon. You are to inform Elyan and Queen Annis of Kilgharrah's warning. Also inform the Queen that Camelot experienced a wonderful summer and can spare food if needed. And then it's up to you and Elyan to decide what you'll do according to the latest information you will gather there. If they accept, you can help the Queen in securing the villages, otherwise you and Elyan make your way home." Arthur continued confident as he unravelled his plans.
"When will I leave?"
"Today, simultaneously with Gwaine and Leon. Your party will be more conspicuous for any spy residing here. In that way the others can leave Camelot undetected." Arthur wasn't naive. He knew there were prying eyes in the city. Most kings and foreign lords saw the newfound alliance between him and Queen Annis as a disturbance of the balance, weary of any future action. The business of information was as much a part of the realities of ruling as were these meetings. But this inevitably wasn't a weakness, he just needed to control the flow and content of that information...
Merlin felt a tug of pride listening to Arthur. The way he explained the problems, listened to everyone and then laid out his plan. He didn't show any insecurity, not like he showed yesterday after the meeting. Merlin couldn't help but smile. At least that part of the prophecy was fulfilled. Arthur was a great king: caring and determined, patient and-
"Merlin, I know I'm boring you but can you please wipe that ridiculous dreamy look off your face."
"Back to the matter of Morgana. She went to Nortcliff for a reason. I want you to find out what that reason is. So, Leon, Gwaine, I think you require a third person, someone who's more familiar with magic than you. You go, Merlin." Arthur announced suddenly. "Now that I have proof that you're not completely useless." He meant that last part as a joke, fully expecting Merlin to insult him back. That didn't happen.
"Thanks for realizing that after all these years." Merlin replied sharply instead, looking genuinely hurt by Arthur's remark. He was, but the familiar feeling of panic also boiled up inside him. Where was Arthur going with this?
"Well, I think it's a great idea, Sire." Gaius interjected, relieving the tension momentarily. "I can assure you that some of my magical knowledge has rubbed off on him after all these years." Sometimes Merlin suspected Gaius enjoyed this a bit too much.
"His instinct as a dragonlord will help as well." The old physician concluded.
"That's what I figured, so Merlin?" Arthur looked anxiously to his right.
"Fine, I'll go, just don't expect any heroics from my part." Merlin caved, sighing when he noticed the gleam in Gwaine's eyes. Looks like he found himself in the opportune setting for those long bothersome questions.
"Glad you still have your sense of humour, I was worried there for a moment."
Merlin just rolled his eyes.
"And I'll have to stay here?" Galahad really sounded disappointed. With all of the knights on assignment he would be stuck in the city. Not that he minded that most of the time, but he wasn't made to be pinned between walls. And now Merlin would leave as well...
"Galahad, I know you're actually far better qualified for the job." Arthur acceded, he could understand where the knight was coming from. "But I need you to guard the city. I'm not letting anything magical enter these walls again. Gwen's right, winter's coming and we too can't afford to lose stocks."
"I'm to be your personal warning bell?"
"Yes, the idea is to alarm everyone before danger enters the city walls. With our new defences any enemy will have difficulty to breach those. Also, I have another reason to keep you here: Emrys. Since he'll probably be somewhere nearby I want you to try and locate him. Yes, I know he's in your blind spot." Arthur went on when Galahad wanted to protest. "But you can still try, maybe you can even find out what his intentions are."
"Arthur I already told you what his intentions are. But what are yours?" Galahad asked intently as he leaned back and folded his arms. His tone was almost accusing. Anyway it was enough to unsettle Arthur.
"That's not..., I mean, just ... I-I don't know yet, I think, okay? Fine, just, if you could talk to him? Maybe he knows what Morgana's up to."
"Smooth Arthur, maybe it's better that Galahad does the speeches in the future."
"I agree with Gwaine. I'll write them, Galahad can do the talking and you can stand there looking all regal and oblivious." Merlin spoke up, glad that for once, Galahad apparently was making Arthur squirm instead of him.
"Merlin."
"Yeah, yeah, shutting up."
"Arthur, about Morgana. You're only sending three of us. So what if we do happen to run in to her?" Leon raised, fully aware this was a probability. And fully aware that they were sitting ducks if that happened.
"Tell her Emrys says 'Hi' and get the hell out of Nortcliff." Arthur answered immediately. Whoever Emrys was and whatever his own feelings regarding this secret sorcerer were, he was Morgana's weakness. And Arthur fully intended to exploit that if it meant to keep his friends save. So this Emrys fellow will just have to deal with the impromptu use of his name.
Merlin was hastily packing in his room. They would leave in less than an hour. He'd just came back from the kitchen to arrange food. Lauren had assured him she'll make sure it would reach the stables. And now he had to hurry. Which was fine, being busy equals less time to think. Or that was what he had hoped. It's very difficult not to think about something, because the second you try not to think about it, you were thinking about it. The night before he had been wondering if he should tell Gaius or Galahad Kilgharrah's full message, but finally dismissed that idea.
If it was just him panicking he could deal with it. There was no need to share this burden with anyone else. As long as only he knew the exact words of Kilgharrah, he could forget. The plan was to go in full denial mode. As long as it was just in his head, it wasn't real. Merlin knew he was fooling himself, but he needed to keep his sanity together. Him falling apart in a blabbering panicky mess wouldn't help anyone.
It was strange, he couldn't remember feeling this afraid when he rode to the Isle of the Blessed, not once, but three times to sacrifice himself for Arthur. He had been afraid, of course, but he had felt a certain tranquillity as well, the one that you experience when you know with every fibre of your body that you made the right decision. So what was different about this time?
He nearly staggered when it suddenly hit him: because I didn't chose it.
"Merlin, did you tidy up your room?" The old physician asked disbelieving as he stood in the doorway.
"Gaius, I'm quite capable of keeping things in order. Ask Arthur, well, ask Gwen I mean." Merlin replied in mocked hurt at the surprise in his mentor's voice.
"Yes, but it's never your own." Gaius crossed his arms suspiciously. "What's going on Merlin?"
"Nothing." Merlin blatantly denied and returned to rummage in his bag, successfully avoiding Gaius' narrowing gaze.
"I'm an old man, Merlin and I have seen my fair share of troubles, so I know a haunted man when I see one and you…"
"Just spit it out, Gaius." Merlin suddenly snapped.
"That's exactly what I mean, something's bothering you, something that's making you act all…"
"What?"
"Snarky and rude."
"Snarky?"
"You heard me, now would you tell me what's bothering you?" Gaius demanded with a tone that left no room for discussion.
"Nothing, I'm just tired." Merlin replied a bit too fast.
"Merlin." Gaius admonished , reducing his question to the boy's name. A trick that had proven effective in the past.
"Fine, it's something Kilgharrah ... hinted at." Merlin relented, but he wouldn't tell everything.
"Go on."
"He said… he made me doubt my abilities against our mysterious threat."
"Did Kilgharrah say you weren't strong enough?" Gaius asked raising his eyebrows.
"Not in so many words." Merlin answered thinking about his conversation with the dragon. Your death, young warlock. "But that was the general vibe."
"Well, he knows you, he probably doesn't want you to rush into things without a plan. You tend to do that." Gaius fatherly patted him on the shoulder. This comforting gesture would have worked if Merlin hadn't lied about what exactly was bothering him.
"You're right Gaius, that's probably it. Thanks, I'm feeling so much better." Merlin said managing to produce a very convincing smile and exiting his room. It was actually sad that he could trick Gaius into believing his... evasive stories. He was almost at the door before Gaius called him back.
"Before you leave, there something you must know about Nortcliff. During the Purge a lot of magic users and their families fled out of Camelot, but the borders didn't provide enough safety. Nortcliff was the last stop of a series of towns and villages through which magic users were smuggled out of Albion. It was the last stop before embarking on the long journey to the continent."
"A long journey..." Merlin pondered. "They may have left something behind."
"That was my thought exactly." Gaius agreed and cleared his throat. "Well, my boy, have a safe journey and do try to stay out of trouble."
"You know me." Merlin gave a genuine smile this time. Some things never change.
"Unfortunately."
"Arthur! Don't you have better things to do than sulking in the hallways?" Merlin yelled when the king suddenly was standing behind him. He had just closed the door, thinking he was all alone, mentally preparing himself when someone behind him had coughed to get attention.
"That's two." Arthur remarked dryly holding up two fingers.
"Two what?" Merlin didn't follow.
"Two times I've managed to startle you." Arthur grinned.
"You're keeping score?" Merlin asked baffled.
"Should I?" Arthur questioned and motioned Merlin to follow him. "Merlin, walk with me."
Merlin wondered why Arthur insisted on walking him to the stables. When he asked, Arthur brushed it off, saying he was on his way to talk to Leon. It was ridiculous, they both knew the physician's chambers weren't located 'on the way' to the stables.
"A fool once told me I needed to listen as well as I fight..." Arthur started slowly.
"Sounds like a wise fool to me."
"On rare occasions." Arthur admitted reluctantly and cleared his throat. "So, about your father and everything else. I hope you know you can tell me anything, right? Not every dull detail of your day, heaven forbid, but the important stuff, the things that matter, I'll listen."
Argh, Arthur, why can't you behave like the prat you were! Merlin thought as he looked upon his friend's honest face.
"Are you going soft here? Maybe we can have a hug next." Merlin mocked for which he truly earned that punch on his arm.
"Admit it Arthur, you're only sending me because you're worried about Galahad." Merlin said a while later still rubbing his arm as they descended the steps into the courtyard.
"Of course, he's still very young and new, plus travelling with Gwaine will put a dent in his innocence."
"What about my innocence?"
"What about it?" Arthur almost snorted. "Besides you can hold your own if needed."
"You're expecting trouble?"
"I always expect trouble when Morgana's involved. Just keep your eyes open… and your mouth shut." Arthur turned serious again, but Merlin wouldn't have it.
"It's not my big mouth I'm worried about." He said light-heartedly instead.
"I mean it Merlin." Arthur stopped and took the slender man's shoulder, forcing Merlin to look back at him. "My orders are to gather more information. Don't take any unnecessary risks."
As Merlin walked towards the stable he saw Arthur talking to Leon, no doubt reminding him of the objectives of their journey, to which Leon nodded reassuringly. Percival would depart first, then they would follow, leaving the city from one of the lesser gates. With his horse finally saddled Merlin took the reins and walked back into the courtyard as someone called out his name, startling him. Luckily Arthur didn't see, for he might start to keep count. Instead, the king was walking back up the stairs, totally oblivious of his manservant's reaction.
"Merlin!" Galahad's voice rang across the courtyard once more. He ran down from the stairs almost bumping into Arthur with one of the bags he carried and skidded to a stop, nearly crashing into the horse. "I wanted to talk to you," Galahad paused to catch his breath, "before you left."
"You didn't want to talk to me yesterday." Merlin reproached him.
"Yeah, I didn't want to feel a warlock's wrath."
"Galahad!" Merlin glanced over his shoulder, anxiously wondering if someone heard.
"Sorry. Anyway," Galahad continued as if nothing happened, while Merlin's heart rate just skyrocketed, "I spoke to my father yesterday and –"
"Wait, stop. What?"
"You have your secrets, I have mine." Galahad dismissed quickly with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "As I was saying, my father had a message for you: Death is not extinguishing the light; it is putting out the lamp because dawn has come." *
"And?"
"That's it. He didn't exactly give me a guidebook. Personally I think is kind of morbid, but maybe there's a clue hidden in there to track down Morgana."
"That I need a torch to find her?"
"Hey, I'm just the messenger."
"You're looking rather smug for 'just being the messenger'." Merlin astutely observed. The young knight was far to chipper for his taste.
"I just accomplished one of the things the king requested of me." Galahad grinned happily watching Merlin as he figured out what he meant. "Here's your food by the way." He added and pushed two heavy bags in Merlin's arms.
"Galahad, you're insufferable. You actually found these last two days entertaining!" Merlin exclaimed indignant as it finally sank in. He was about to tell him how 'entertaining' he had found the meetings – in a hushed inconspicuous sort of way – but Leon was walking towards them already so he settled for sending Galahad an angry look as he juggled with the bags.
"Sir Leon, have a safe journey and look after Merlin, he can be so hopelessly clumsy sometimes." Galahad addressed the older knight as he slowly backtracked towards the stairs. He really didn't want to feel Merlin's anger. Merlin was seriously tempted to make the druid trip, but Leon was standing too close for comfort, so the warlock just shook his head in calm resignation.
"Again, I'll try my best." Leon answered trying to keep a straight face. Arthur had said the very same thing only minutes before.
"Stay out of trouble!" Merlin yelled when the knight was about to enter the citadel.
"Don't worry! You're taking Gwaine with you!" Galahad shouted back and with that he disappeared, probably in search of the king. Merlin just hoped he had enough restraint not to tell Arthur he'd spoken to Emrys...
"So, you're ready?" Leon asked Merlin as he mounted his horse.
"As I'll ever be." Merlin replied, retightening the saddle and reins. He watched Gwaine disappear into the stables with a ridiculously large grin on his face. You would think he was off to a feast not a boring fishing town - or that's at least were Merlin presumed they were heading to.
"Arthur gave me permission to knock him out if needed." Leon said following Merlin's gaze.
"Have you told Gwaine?"
"Why? He'll find out when he wakes up." Leon said this so matter-of-factly Merlin wasn't sure if he was joking or not.
Gwaine and Leon weren't wearing their knight's attire. Nortcliff, like so many other towns and villages in the rims of the five kingdoms, was a town with disputed alliances. In the last few decades, it sometimes aligned itself with Mercia or Camelot, depending on the rulers of that time. The old kings of Mercia and Camelot had both claimed the town as their own on numerous occasions, referring to their ability to collect taxes there, often with the use of more ... violent ways of persuasion. So the kings gained money, stones and people.
But they couldn't capture the true spirit of Nortcliff. Ask any local inhabitant which king they serve and they'll point up. The wind, they'll say, is the only one who can claim lordship over us. Sometimes it blows to the north, sometimes to the south, but mostly it blows to the east towards the vast sea. Only when a king comes forth with the will and power to tame the sea, then we will serve him as our own. But such a king has never appeared.
Their indecision on politics and power was reflected in their economic activities. Aside from fishing and growing old, the main profession of the town was smuggling. With its sheltered bay and many caves, Nortcliff was the ideal setting for such outlawed professions to thrive. From outward appearances the town didn't look like much, but the men who lived there were amongst the most well connected of the whole of Albion. They travelled and traded along the whole coast, carefully navigating around – or sometimes in – centres of power like the courts of kings or local lords with dreams of grandeur.
The fact that so many people depended on what the seamen of Nortcliff smuggled, gave them a certain protection. Everyone who was someone had interests in the town, and everyone could lose a lot if kings decided to forcibly stop this profitable way of living. So the people of Nortcliff were allowed to remain free – and cause some harmless havoc to visiting officials – to choose which alliance was the most beneficial.
At the moment, the town had aligned itself with Mercia. It had been that way for more than twenty years now and although the Mercian court turned a blind eye towards the smugglers, knights from Camelot wouldn't be granted that same privilege. So Arthur hoped their common appearance and Gwaine's rowdy behaviour would prove enough cover. At the moment the relations between Mercia and Camelot were relatively friendly. Still it would be considered rude and undiplomatic if they were to enter Mercia without permission of its king. Still, time was of the essence and so secrecy was their greatest ally. Being caught and accused of spying was the worst case scenario in regards to Mercia. With Morgana, Arthur didn't know. He watched solemnly as the three riders galloped out of the city.
"They'll be fine." Gwen said as she wrapped her arms around him. Arthur kissed her forehead gently still gazing upon Camelot's countryside until they disappeared across the hill.
"Yeah, I know." Arthur said out loud hoping the sound of his voice would chase away that dreaded feeling. With one last look out of the window he turned around and followed Gwen. There was still work to be done, as always...
Tristan cursed silently as his torched spluttered again. Don't you dare give up on me now! He silently ordered with narrowing eyes. The flame was casting eerie shadows on the cavern walls as he hurried along. He was following the witch's trail for more than a day now. That's what he guessed at least. These damn caves were a nightmare. In the beginning the daylight that still trickled in through cave-ins was sufficient enough to light his path. But now Tristan's third and final torch was quitting on him. It was hours ago since he last saw daylight. Maybe it was night now? He didn't know. More than once he suspected his mind was playing tricks on him. Did he turn left here already? Wasn't that arc familiar? But the most important question was driving him further into the very earth itself: was he still following the witch?
The torched hissed as the flame died down. It was doing nothing more than smouldering now. He hadn't had much time left. Forget getting out of the caves. If he could kill the witch, he would be more than content. Just burn for a while longer. He passed another hall, even bigger than the ones before. The cavern ceiling was so high the light of his pitiful torch couldn't reach. Would that be his fate? To be one step behind her, never catching up? The thought of failing made Tristan run even faster. He just went straight on. After the next bend, he kept telling himself, you'll kill her after the next bend.
*Quote is from Rabindranath Tagore. Also, I settled for three times to the Isle of the Blessed: once for Arthur in 1x13 and two times in the beginning of S4...
So... feedback people! :)