A/N: So, I managed to get this written the day after the first chapter. I'll continue the story for a bit longer (I currently have three and a half chapters finished), but I'm really relying on your reviews as to how long this story is and whether I actually finish it or not. I apologise profusely for the AN length last chapter, hopefully this makes up for it!

DISCLAIMER: Credits for Merlin go to its creators and the BBC. Very little of the Holy Grail legend I'm using is from the actual legend.

Chapter 2

"It's not that I can't tell you," Arthur started at length, drawing Merlin's attention again and feeling the curiosity in those startlingly blue eyes. "But that I don't know where we're going, either."

"You ... don't know where we're going?" Merlin repeated slowly, brow furrowed in confusion as he stared incredulously at his King.

Arthur glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, rolling his eyes and sighing in exasperation at the look on his manservant's face. "Yes, Merlin, I have ab-so-lutely no idea where in God's name we're going," he confirmed, serious but for the shadow of a smile on his face. It would have been funny to see the reactions of his friends when they found, but it was a serious situation that demanded much of his attention as they rode along a lesser-used path through the forest. "All I know is that we need to head south, past Mercia, and even past The Perilous Lands."

Merlin stared at Arthur in disbelief. He'd known the royal was an idiot before now, but this took his idiocy to new heights. "So... What are we looking for?" he finally asked. If they had no heading but were still going out, then there must be some kind of objective.

"The Holy Grail," Arthur replied seamlessly, not taking his eyes off the dirt road in front of him. He was hyper-aware of his surroundings. They had rode through this part of the forest many times without being set upon by bandits or the like, but it did not mean they wouldn't be attacked this time. As such, he was aware of the sudden change in his servant's disposition despite not being able to physically see it.

"What?" Merlin shouted, alarmed. He had been shocked enough to have almost lost his hold on his horse's reins, choking on his surprise for a few moments before speaking.

The other knights – who had not been able to hear their comrades' conversation over the beating of the horses' hooves on the ground, the forest around them and their concentration on being alert for an attack – looked alarmed at Merlin's sudden outburst. They exchanging glances and tightening their formation to see if at least one of them could overhear something.

Arthur sighed wearily and shook his head. "Later. I'd planned on telling you all once we'd stopped to rest for the night. It would be too much effort to have to answer the same questions twice."

Merlin appeared to be at bursting point and almost demanded immediate answers, but Arthur had used that tone that ended a conversation. The same tone Merlin knew meant Arthur would hold to his decision, even against his friends.

They continued on their journey in relative quiet, only Gwaine and Merlin keeping up the stream of incessant chatter – sometimes permeated by the input of another knight, or the laughter of the others – that allowed everyone to relax slightly, unworried. Arthur (who had remained silent save the occasional quiet chuckle at his manservant's and knights' antics) would tell them what was going on in due time, when he was ready to. Until then, they would trust that he was doing what he thought best for them, and the kingdom.

~#~

Night had almost fallen and everyone was sat around the fire, talking together and laughing as Merlin cooked a stew from the two rabbits Leon and Gwaine had caught a little earlier.

"So, come on, spill it. Where are we going?" Elyan asked Arthur as the conversations seemed to dwindle between them.

Arthur looked up from where he had been brooding, staring into the fire and occasionally looking between each of his trusted knights. Their attention was immediately capture by Elyan's long-awaited question, and five pairs of eyes watched Arthur over the flickering light of the fire.

"We're going to find the Holy Grail," he replied, sitting up a little straighter as he slid from being 'Brooding-Arthur' to 'Leader-Arthur.' Many would mistake the second stance as the one he took when he acted as King, the person he was whilst in public at Camelot and around other delegates, but the five men currently sat with him could see that the two roles were different. This Arthur treated them like the friends they were, would still allow the taunting and the jibes, and was much more heart-felt even when speaking to his manservant, instead of being the aloof King that, while treating them as equals, still had to treat a servant as a servant and would never say please or thank you to one. This Arthur was the one they followed unwaveringly into the mouth of Hell itself.

"But I thought the Grail had been lost, many centuries ago?" Leon frowned in confusion, breaking the silence that had fallen over them. Merlin tore his gaze from his King as Leon spoke, turning his attention back to the cooking pot. He stirred the stew whilst listening half-heartedly to the conversation.

"It was, yes. But there are rumours that it has been found and is being kept in a land to the south of Mercia," Arthur replied, having fully expected the question. In fact, he'd been thinking about this conversation all day and had come up with so many questions and the best answers for each. It was his reason for being so unnaturally quiet.

"...It's powerful, isn't it?" Percival asked at length. "That's why only the council members were at the meeting and why you didn't tell us before we left."

Arthur nodded, "No one can find out that we are going after it. The courtiers may have sworn their loyalty, but I do not trust them. At least this way, I know who to suspect if anyone finds out about our mission."

The knights all smiled. Arthur trusted them implicitly, even after Elyan's possession at the hands of the Druid boy two years previous. His distrust of the courtiers was understood without explanation however and the thought of Agravaine tore at Arthur's heart.

Gwaine clapped him on the shoulder, spooking Arthur from his dark thoughts as Gwaine wrapped an arm round his shoulders and squeezed lightly, showing his support. "It'll be fine, Arthur. You know who you can trust, and that's all that matters," Gwaine grinned widely, letting go of Arthur and picking up his dish as Merlin began to get to his feet. The stew was done.

Arthur smiled and nodded his thanks for the reassurance, knowing that his friend was right as each of the other four men looked to him with an honest smile for at least a moment, before Merlin was swamped by their good-natured demands for food.

"So, you didn't really answer my question, Arthur. Where are we going? Other than south past Mercia?" Gwaine pressed as they ate.

"It's a place known as Tam's Kingdom," Arthur conceded. "I've never been there myself, but it's about a week's easy riding from Camelot, or four days if we ride hard," he clarified.

"A week just to get there? I thought that this whole trip was going to take a week or so at the longest," Leon mused.

"I told the Court to spread the word that I'd be gone for almost a month to speak with other delegates in a far Kingdom. It's partially true," Arthur explained with a shrug. Almost as if to say 'I can't do anything about it.'

"Who did you leave in charge for that long?" Gwaine asked, confused. All the people Arthur might trust alone with such a job were sat around the fire before them.

"I called in a favour from a few friends within the kingdom. They joined the court yesterday and any matters I would deal with are to be agreed upon by vote. No decisions are to be passed if less than eight of the ten agree. Or, so I told them. You know what a few of them are like." Arthur shook his head in frustration. "We will just have to trust that Camelot is still standing when we get back. I couldn't miss out on this quest," he added, half solemn and serious, half joking. They all knew the chances of Camelot not being at rights when they returned...

"This Grail. Percival mentioned that it was powerful. Just how powerful is it, exactly?" Leon enquired. He wondered if they were going after it because despite sounding harmless it may well be a possible weapon that could be used against Camelot in the future (just as the Cup of Life had looked harmless enough) and Arthur wanted to remove that threat as much as possible, or if it was the fame that would come with capturing a once-lost piece of lore that Arthur was after; fame that would raise the esteem of their King and kingdom. The others by now knew the way Leon's mind worked and sensed the direction of his thoughts, but it wasn't Arthur that answered.

"The Holy Grail is said to grant many gifts to those that drink from it, for no price at all," Merlin said, barely loud enough for them all to hear. He looked up from his dish, glancing at them each in turn before returning his attention to his food and carrying on. "Some say that it was the chalice Christ used at the Last Supper, others say it's just an enchanted cup, similar to the Cup of Life perhaps. But it is dangerous. A lot of those that have captured it before were too scared to use it, but there have been a few undocumented cases of its use..." The young man trailed off and spent a few moments just eating, before Gwaine's curiosity got the better of him.

"And? What happened? Even if they weren't written about, surely there's rumours and stories passed down by word of mouth?"

"There is," Merlin nodded, seeming to be reluctant to share what information he had. The knights looked at each other – Merlin had been fine, his usual cheery self, during the ride (even after Arthur had told him of their quest for the Grail) but now he was uncharacteristically quiet and solemn. They'd only ever seen him this way when something really bad was going on that threatened Arthur and Camelot. Surely their quest wasn't that dangerous?

"Merlin," Arthur started, sitting forwards a little to try and catch his friend's attention. Merlin looked up not because of the movement, but because of the tone of voice Arthur was using. It was cautious but demanding, a combination Merlin hadn't heard directed at him before. "What do you know that we don't?"

Merlin frowned and looked back down at his now-empty dish. Sighing, he set it at his feet, seeing that the others had long since finished their own meals. "I don't know if any of the stories are true because legends can be twisted and changed to suit the speaker if they're not written down, and some of them are just plain hearsay, but there are a few, spoken by the Druids, that can be trusted more than any to be the truth..." His mouth twisted in a way that they were familiar with when the raven haired man was thinking hard about something. None of the knights brought up the fact that they were all wondering how Merlin knew of the stories told by the Druids.

Not yet, anyway.

"I forget where I heard it – it was a long time ago, now - but there's one story that tells of a King that found the cup and drank the blood of his opponent from it. Just one mouth full, apparently, and he went mad. He started to speak in other languages, including the Old Religion. He spoke about the things he could see; the spirits of those he'd killed and those that had died for him, and he dreamt of the future that would come, or of things happening at that moment in other places, far from his realm. His people became scared when, in a rare state of lucidity, he ordered all those without magic to be hunted down and killed. You might think it would be hypocritical to say so, but he himself, and his daughter, had displayed signs of magical gifts from early ages – weak magic that they couldn't control, yes, but it was there."

Merlin paused as he tried to remember what the Druid had told him – for it had actually been during his time at Camelot that he had heard several stories of legend from the Druid people. His hands were clasped beneath his chin, elbows braced on his knees as he watched the fire. The knights waited with bated breath for the servant to continue. "No one knew why he did it. Those that spoke out against him would be taken to his court chambers and never came out. Over the course of three years thousands died, one in twenty taken to the castle – never to be heard of again. His daughter vanished near the end of the third year.

"On the third anniversary of the day he found the Grail, the King stepped out of his castle, the exact image of the man he was before he set out on his quest for the sacred cup. Then he killed himself with his own sword, right there on the steps of his castle, for everyone to see," and so saying, Merlin started to gather the used utensils and went to the small brook a few yards from their camp, taking advantage of the quiet that ensued. He didn't like thinking of that story and it made him regret eating anything as he started feeling queasy, but now he'd finished speaking he could push it from his mind again and let the quiet of the forest soothe his creeping headache.

"Hey. Are you okay?" Merlin turned in surprise when he heard Percival's voice. His foot slipped as he turned, and Merlin lost balance. With a small and almost muted splash, the man landed on his backside in the brook, looking very unimpressed. Percival laughed to himself and held out a hand to help Merlin to his feet.

"Are you okay?" the knight repeated, still smiling widely in amusement.

"Besides having a wet backside, now? I'm fine," Merlin rebuffed, rolling his eyes. He went back to washing the cooking pot and the things they'd used whilst eating.

"You look pale, you know. Like you're sick or something," Percival pressed, his voice as gentle as ever.

"I'm fine, Percival, really," Merlin repeated, glancing back up as Percival joined him in cleaning the dishes and giving him one of his wide, toothy grins.

The knight smiled back and stayed quiet, letting Merlin act as thought he believed he'd accepted the weak lie of being okay. But Percival remained watchful, and once they'd both returned to camp and the atmosphere was as cheerful and joking as they were all used to (many and most of the jokes being at Merlin's or Arthur's expense), the others kept an eye on their young friend also.

~#~

Normally, the knights would remove their red capes when entering another kingdom without intending to meet with the ruler of said kingdom, but Mercia was an ally that had been befriended by Uther to end the bloodshed of years of war and Arthur saw no need to immediately hide who they were. They were only passing through the kingdom and even if they were found by Mercian knights the worse that would happen is that they would have to take a detour to see Lord Bayard. Arthur hoped it wouldn't come to that. If they met with Bayard, then it would be unlikely that they could hide the intentions of their quest.

It was fortunate then that they met no one else on their travels over the following days. It was on the last day in Mercian territory when they heard the war cry of bandits and in moments the small party of Camelot knights were surrounded.

Word count: 2,669