AN: This is not beta'ed so pardon my mistakes or graciously point them out... And thank you guys for those wonderful reviews!

Chapter 8: The Road to Trouble

"We should halt here for the night." Leon said as he stopped on a gentle hillside. They had been riding for many hours now, only halting once to cross a ford giving the horses some rest. He estimated it would be a two-day, maybe three-day ride to get to Nortcliff.

"No." Merlin stated firmly, "We still have an hour daylight left."

"Less I think." Gwaine raised.

"Then we shouldn't waste it talking." And with that curt remark Merlin galloped away casting long shadows on the road.

"Geez, something has him ticked off." Gwaine remarked as he too urged his horse following Merlin down the slope.

"Yeah and the fact it's Merlin makes me worry even more." Leon said to no one in particular. He was a keen observer and there appeared to be some connection between an unsettled Merlin and a full scale disaster.

"You're pensive." Gwaine said when he finally caught up with his friend, forcing him to ride a bit slower. They would get nowhere if they rode the horses to their death on the first day of the trip.

"What's wrong with that?" Merlin huffed. He didn't want to talk.

"Nothing, only normally you talk and think at the same time. And not always in that order." Gwaine smirked happily.

"Gwaine's got a point." Leon agreed as he too caught up.

"I'm just tired."

"So, what can you do? As a dragonlord?" Gwaine finally asked. Merlin couldn't help himself, he smiled seeing Gwaine's eager face. He knew the man had been restraining himself to launch a hundred questions. He didn't know how he felt about that though. Gwaine never restrained himself, so why did he try now?

"Nothing much, I can tell a dragon what to do."

"Nothing much, he says. Do you hear that, Leon? Merlin, boy you don't realise how awesome that sounds! So what did you tell the dragon to do?"

Merlin rolled his eyes, now secretly praying Gwaine had put off the thousand questions for another day.

"Leave."

"Merlin, are all your answers going to be this short? I feel like I'm holding a monologue here."

"Probably." Leon snorted at this answer.

"I wish I could tell a dragon what to do," Gwaine said with a dreamy look; "I mean, the fun I could have."

"Really, Gwaine?" Merlin gazed at him intently before staring back at the road ahead. "Because for me it meant I lost my father. It's a great gift, honestly, but every single time I use this power I feel my father besides me. It's strangely consoling, but at the same time it feels like saying goodbye all over again. Then I wish it would last longer, but calling Kilgharrah usually means trouble so I end up feeling guilty because I'm aching for more."

Gwaine looked a bit baffled and Merlin forced himself to grin."So how is that for monologuing?"

It was almost dark before they finally made camp. Leon went to check the parameter while Gwaine collected firewood and Merlin took care of the horses. After brushing them down he dragged the saddle bags towards the small fire Gwaine had built and started to cook. Leon was gone for a while and only made it back just in time for Merlin to hand him a plate.

"We should keep the fire low tonight." Leon said as he swallowed his first bite. "Two miles or so to the south there's a camp. I couldn't get close enough to count them all, but they're likely more than twenty, all of them wearing Mercian uniforms." He had thought about moving their own camp, but the small valley they were taking shelter in provided enough cover. Besides it was dark now, so no smoke could alert the Mercians and they had the wind on their side.

"What are they doing so close to Camelot?" Merlin frowned.

"Patrolling? That's my best guess, although I would never take twenty knights or more for a mere patrol. But we shouldn't worry about them now, as long as they don't spot us we'll be fine. I'll tell Arthur when we get back." Leon answered casually. He was a bit worried though, but he wasn't about to transfer his worries to his fellow travellers. So he settled for small talk instead."We made good time today."

"Tell me about it." Gwaine groaned and stretched his legs again."At this rate we'll arrive at Nortcliff tomorrow."

"Tell us about the village." Leon asked. He'd never been there, so he was rather curious.

"Well, they mostly fish there and try very hard to be miserable."

"I thought you said you went there often?" Merlin pitched in. He'd finished eating and gathered the other plates. He didn't bother with the washing up, he could do that tomorrow. For now he was equally curious.

"Ah, but that was in the fun part of town." Gwaine gave them meaningful glances. "It's hard to describe, there's this kind of a vibe there, you know, the thrill of living on the edge of the law... You'll see."

"Tell us a story, Merlin." Gwaine declared unexpectedly when the conversation died down again after a rather rash speculation of what Morgana was up to. They finally settled that trying to turn cabbages into flesh eating plants was less likely of happening – only Gwaine was a stubborn believer, Merlin sincerely hoped he was joking – while raising another dead army was a more probable option.

"No, not in the mood." Merlin grumbled and poked the fire some more. He had burned the stick halfway already, but didn't feel like getting up and search for another.

"Aw, Merlin, come on! You look like somebody drowned your favourite cat. What's on your mind?" Gwaine insisted. Merlin shot him a foul look. Oh, I don't know, I'm a bit preoccupied since a dragon foretold my death! But he couldn't exactly say that now could he?

"Fine, I tell you a story." Merlin threw his stick in the fire and started without further delay, hoping none of the others noticed how he dodged that question.

"There was a young man once, who didn't belong anywhere and didn't mind this at all. He liked to travel, to roam the roads, to sleep in ditches and escape trouble. He relished in adventure and truly believed that nothing in the world could compare to this free life. But one day he came across a small stream. There was a girl there fetching water, but for him it wasn't an ordinary girl. He thought she was as beautiful and fragile as the nymphs in the stories. Hesitantly he followed her back to her village. A year later they were married and the unthinkable happened, the young man settled down. He became more careful, but still travelled a lot, mostly between the village and the larger town to sell crops he harvested.

On one of these travels faith struck a harsh blow. Four bandits were busy robbing an old man as he turned upon a fork in the road. They hadn't noticed him yet, so instead of helping the old man the young man hid himself. Only when the bandits were long gone did he dare to move out of his hiding place. What was wrong with him, he thought as he rode towards the old man and got down from his horse. In the past he never acted this cowardly! The old man was lying on the ground now, breathing difficult and bleeding profusely from a stomach wound.

"You!" He spat. "I saw you there, cowering in fear! I curse you, boy! As the road took my life today it will take yours as well! One day you'll most precious possession will be lost. Mark my words, you'll lose your life on that day as well!" With one last agonizing groan the old man died.

The man was afraid now, truly afraid. He knew that the bandits were cowards, why else would they rob and wound an old man? He knew that if he had interfered the bandits would have probably fled. Why did I hesitate, he wondered. He had the power to help the old man, but didn't... With quivering legs the man went back home, not telling his wife anything out of shame. Years passed and every day the man thought about those dying words. He refrained from venturing outside the village again, renounced all his riches and lived a simple live. After a few years those words were buried beneath more happy memories of his loving wife and daughter. But then one day during the long cold winter, his safe little world came crumbling down. Bandits raided his village capturing a couple of young women, including the man's own daughter. He had no choice but to go after her. Conveniently he didn't remember the words of the dying man, until he came to a fork in the road...

With an ashen face and trembling hands he got down from his horse and studied the two roads with the utmost scrutiny, but they were the same. There were no hoofmarks on the frozen road, so there was no indication of which road the bandits took. There was also no indication which road was safe. So he was left with four choices: he could go to the right, to the left, turn back or stay there. These were the choices he was faced with. What would you do?"

Merlin directed this last question to his companions, who were so wrapped in Merlin's storytelling that they startled a bit.

"Erm, that's hard. Turn left?" Leon guessed, wondering where Merlin was going with this story.

"So finally he decided his path, got back onto his horse and galloped away. After a few miles he came across a river. Bravely he steered his horse into it. But in the middle of the river he froze out of fear again, clinging onto the reins too tightly. The horse reared and bucked causing the man to fall down. He hit his head on the rocks that were scattered on the bottom of the shallow river and drowned." Merlin finished and looked at his friends again, daring them to choose another path. He actually hadn't know what he was going to tell when he started, but know he knew the ending.

"Okay, say he stayed, what would happened then?" Gwaine was having fun. It felt like a story and a competition at the same time. But would he or Leon guess correctly?

"The man thought about his choice all night long. He was so scared of that road, that he didn't move, he stood there fixed onto the ground, while the freezing rain poured down on him mercilessly. When the sun came up the next morning, he was death." Merlin said in a low voice, "Died of fright."

"Try right, right is good." Gwaine encouraged Merlin to go on with a wave of his hand.

"The man decided and he made the right choice." Gwaine elbowed Leon with a grin on his face, 'told you' he mouthed. "After an hour he saw a campfire: he had found the bandits. Carefully he made his way towards his daughter. She was bound on a cart along with four other girls. He gestured them to be silent and succeeded in cutting the ropes of three girls before he was discovered. The bandits were furious that he had freed their sport for the night, so they tortured him instead. His screams echoed throughout the forest. At dawn he begged for death to take him. Death happily obliged."

"The final option then." Leon said already knowing he wouldn't like the ending. He reckoned he knew where Merlin was going with this.

"The man turned back to his village. He told his friends and wife that he sadly failed to locate the trail despite searching for hours and hours. The whole village was in mourning. Sure, everybody was grateful that he had tried and comforted him that he shouldn't be too hard on himself; he had tried his best after all. After a while their sympathetic glances and nods made him sick. He couldn't face anyone anymore and barely left the house. The villagers pitied him, guessing the grief of losing his precious daughter was ripping him apart. They were wrong. It was guilt. He was a coward, listening to the words of a crazy dead man. He was only capable of causing death, he knew that now. One night he left his house for one more time, the last time.

He roamed the surrounding woods for hours. The one thing he had taken with him was a rope. It would take more than a day before the other villagers found him swinging in the wind. So in the end it didn't matter, he was always going to die because of a road, no matter what he decided." Merlin finished. They all were silent for a few moments each starring into the fire before them.

"That was one of the most depressing stories I've ever heard." Gwaine protested. "I'm not feeling very happy right now." He really felt depressed.

"Not everyone gets to have their happy fairytale ending. Sometimes it just doesn't happen." Merlin said and evasively unrolled his blanket. He felt so tired all of a sudden and his throat hurt. He didn't think Gwaine got what he was telling, but Leon did.

"Do you really believe that people's fates are fixed? How can you? Look at Gwaine, he wasn't born to be a knight and yet he is." Leon argued. Gwaine nodded meekly, trying not to spit out the gulp of water he just drank. Merlin grinned at the irony and motioned Gwaine to pass him the water skin.

"You're right, Leon, what could I've been thinking."

"Leon, I've meant to ask you something." Merlin asked a few moments later as everyone began to settle down for the night. "It's about Emrys. You don't seem too avers to the idea of a sorcerer protecting Camelot?"

"I'm not. It's...complicated." Leon admitted folding his hands behind his head as he stared at the sky. "Look, I never questioned any of the king's decision at the time, but in these last years... It's not that black and white anymore, so I can't help but wondering; what if it never was?"

"I'm not following." Gwaine said from across the fire.

"The Cup of Life, Gwaine, the Druids saved me by using the Cup. I was at death's doorstep, much closer than I ever had been and yet they saved me, a knight of Camelot, their enemy."

"Later on I learned about the other uses of that Cup: making men immortal." He looked disgusted. Merlin wondered if he truly grasped what it had meant to be an immortal soldier. As he watched the serious face of the older knight, he concluded Leon knew exactly what it entailed. "That one object had two completely opposite uses. What's to say that this doesn't extend to the rest of magic?" Leon went on, not realising Merlin was studying his every expression.

"So you believe there can be good magic?" Merlin carefully raised.

"I hope there is." Leon sighed wistfully.

"You never told that before." Merlin almost admonished the man, at the last moment omitting the 'me' that fitted in there.

"It never mattered until now. Bottom line, I trust Galahad. If he says Emrys protects Arthur, I believe him."

As their conversation finally died down Merlin felt horrible again. He didn't know if doing something wouldn't eventually lead to his death, nor if doing nothing would lead to the same outcome. He didn't know if anything he would or wouldn't do, will or will not lead to his death.

Maybe I'll just lie beside the side of the road, waiting. Maybe I'll go crazy from knowing and jump off a cliff. I'm guessing there are a few of those I can choose from where we're heading. Maybe, I'm riding towards my end right know. Maybe, my murderer is lying in wait with a crossbow, ready to fire. He didn't even dare to imagine his worst fear. But again, trying not to think about something was even more impossible then not dying.

A hundred different scenarios played in his head, over and over again... It didn't matter where he went or what he did, he was sure of this. Everything from now on would lead to that final moment. He couldn't stop time from moving.

He sighed again and closed his eyes. Maybe it was time to reveal some more truths, if even Leon was warming up to the idea of magic. He heard Gwaine wander around. He had first watch. After that it would be Merlin's turn and Leon would do the last shift. If he pretended to be asleep then he would fall asleep eventually, right? Merlin turned away from the fire and sighed once more. It was going to be a long night.

"Rise and shine you two." Merlin greeted gleefully as he woke his fellow travellers. Gwaine groaned and turned around but Leon sat straight up."You didn't wake me."

"Breakfast?" Merlin skilfully ignoring Leon's disguised question and hold up two plates.

"Merlin, it isn't even light yet!" Gwaine grumbled.

"In ten minutes it will be." Merlin retorted, "Look, do you want breakfast or not?"

"Give it here. I thought Leon would be the difficult one."

"Thanks Merlin," Leon said as he took the offered plate as well, "Aren't you going to eat yourself?"

"Had my share already. You guys eat, I'll gather our stuff and we can set off in ten minutes." Merlin said and walked towards the horses.

"Do you think he slept at all?" Leon asked Gwaine a bit worried. The other knight just shrugged his shoulders.

The second day was equally uneventful. They were making good time since their horses were well rested. Gwaine often casted troubled glances towards Merlin, but his friend didn't seem to notice. Merlin was very quiet today and since Gwaine himself was riding in the front most of the time, he couldn't question him any further. He was leading them towards Nortcliff from a more inland route. It wasn't well know and not often used, but it cut a considerable part off their journey. Leon was impressed.

They rode on for most of the day until Gwaine suddenly stopped on a ridge. Merlin couldn't envision why until a light breeze tugged his clothes. The wind swept in the sea. They had to be close now as Merlin could smell the salt, the promise of freedom... He wasn't a poet, but this moment and this place surely made him feel like one. Then it passed as Kilgharrah's warning yet again assaulted his mind.

"We can camp here tonight or ride on. If we do, we'll reach the town just after nightfall." Gwaine explained. It would take another three hours at least, but camping closer in open air would be dangerous.

"Let's go on then." Leon decided.

"Perfect, it's hardly alive before that." Gwaine grinned and they continued their journey.

"There it is, Nortcliff." Gwaine stated solemnly as they looked down at the town. Merlin was amazed. It was bigger than he had pictured. The town was lit up by the last rays of sunlight but the people bustling below were already lighting up torches and lanterns. He tried to find some sort of logic in the way the town was ordered, but it was just one big maze with wide streets, alleyways and courtyards. The right side of the town stopped abruptly, probably halted by cliffs like the one they were standing on. The rest of the houses slowly spread out downhill until they met the sea at the harbour. Merlin counted five large ships. Their masts moved up and down with the waves. But it was the vast amount of smaller ships that took Merlin by surprise. There were almost a hundred of them! Okay, he was exaggerating but still... Gwaine broke Merlin out of his reverie.

"I know a good place to stay. It's called the Green Death Cap." Gwaine said and steered his horse down towards the first streets.

"The Green Death Cap? Really? It's named after a mushroom." Merlin commented with a grin. Somehow being here cheered him up a bit. The town just screamed 'distraction'.

"Ah, but a deadly one." Gwaine smirked.

The Green Death Cap, Merlin couldn't help but snort at its name, was an inconspicuous place. It was located in the back of an alley, had no sign and the door was well hidden. He would have walked right passed it if Gwaine hadn't steered him towards the door. His friend talked with some huge man who was sitting next to the door and gave him some money.

"Give him your reins." Gwaine said as he handed the man his own. The man whistled and two younger boys appeared out of nowhere. "They'll look after the horses." Gwaine patted the man's shoulder, took a deep breath and opened the door. A second later Merlin realized why. The smell of stale beer, lingering smoke and a dozen filthy sweaty men packed together in a tiny room hit his nostrils with such force that Merlin almost gagged. Gwaine turned around and gazed at his companions intently.

"Whatever happens, do not interfere." He said seriously. Gwaine was taking charge of the situation, something Leon gracefully accepted. It was obvious the knight knew what he was doing. Truth to be told, Leon was surprised at Gwaine's seemingly effortless lead so far. With Arthur slowly given all of the knights of the Round Table the chance to prove themselves, Gwaine had always – Leon suspected this was deliberately – been overlooked. Its seems that appearances were wrong again, Gwaine could behave responsibly...

"Duncan! Where are you hiding, you worthless bag of worms!" Gwaine's loud voice drowned out every conversation in the tavern . A man sitting at the far side of the room swiftly turned around and his face contorted in anger when he saw who called him out. A dozen others followed his example.

Or not...

The 'story' is so not Merlin, but I rather like playing with a slightly depressed and gloomy warlock. This chapter may seem a bit uneventful but I actually planned just one for their whole stay in Nortcliff but the words just kept coming... So you'll get the second part very soon since it was too long to post it all together...