Note: Long chapter but lots of important plot points. I hope you enjoy.

Thanks for reading.

….

Chapter 18: the King's Refuge

Merlin woke up to the touch of a warm sunbeam on his face and the smell of freshly cut herbs. He allowed the scent to fill his lungs before he even opened his eyes. The scene that greeted him was so familiar that he felt completely safe and at home.

For three years, each time he had visited the monastery – otherwise known as King Lot's Refuge, he had slept in this room. At first, he had objected to it, declaring that it was too nice for him. However, the orders from the Lord in charge of the place had been quite clear and he had had to accept the arrangement for fear of causing any trouble to the servants or insult to his host. From that moment on, he had made this space his home away from Camelot.

The walls were richly decorated with tapestries and heavy curtains that kept the room from getting too cold, though most of the time Merlin kept the windows fully uncovered to appreciate the view of the green meadows. The furniture was hand-carved with flowery details on the wood. His favourite piece was a writing table from which he could see the gardens and the fields. His four-poster bed was similar to the one in Arthur's chambers, except that it had a layer of multicoloured fur on top of the bedding for extra warmth. On his bedside table, he could see the books he had read during his last visit, alongside the wax candles that Morgana had made for him. Most of the candles were tipping over like odd branches about to fall off and Merlin smiled at the sight.

Morgana had no artistic talent whatsoever.

The monks had tried to teach her many different kinds of art: singing, knitting, sewing, painting, candle-making, and even baking. She showed very little interest for any of those activities. It became clear early on that the quiet life of the monastery was not for her. As a result, and under Merlin's and the Lord tenant's command, she was given much more freedom than a woman in such surroundings normally would. That freedom included a lot of spare time to ride and the privilege of wearing clothes that were more to her liking. Since her noble origins were not a secret, the Lord in charge of the monastery had had fine dresses made for her, according to her station.

The word had spread out fast that a noble Lady, who was also incredibly beautiful, was now living at the monastery. The fairest Lady in the kingdom. More than one tale reached Merlin's ears about the mysterious Lady Morgana. Some said that she was a fairy queen in hiding. Some called her a princess from a foreign land, forced into exile by a jealous stepmother. But the most popular rumour was that she was King Lot's illegitimate daughter. It was this assumption that had brought many men of noble birth in this remote land to seek out Morgana's hand, a situation that the old king found vastly entertaining.

Entertaining. That was hardly the word that Merlin had in mind at the present time. To begin with, King Lot's idea on who Morgana should be marrying was laughable. Secondly, he did not want Arthur Pendragon to hear anything about it. And to finish, they had much more urgent matter to attend to, such as saving Camelot from certain doom.

Resolutely, Merlin glanced around the room for signs of his usual clothes. His wound must have been only half-healed because there was a large white bandage across his chest and a painful throbbing under it. As he soon as he began to move, he found that his body was aching all over, as though he was eighty years-old again.

Yet he had survived. Morgana's magic had saved him. It was a good sign. Healing was magic of a good kind. He had felt no darkness there at all. It was definitely a good sign.

He found a pile of clothes, but they were not his servant's tunic or travelling cloak. It was a white shirt and brown trousers. There was also a blue coat lined with silver thread. He dressed hastily, cursing at the fact that he had been deprived of yet another perfectly good scarf.

Having him dress like a Lord was one of King Lot's favourite jokes, which meant that the old king was around the monastery somewhere.

Preferably not having a talk with Arthur, thought Merlin with sudden agitation.

The idea that the two were sharing information about Morgana and him was not at all appealing.

There was no guard at his door so he sped down the stairs until he came to the gallery. The monastery was actually a fortress turned into a sort of safe heaven for those of wanted to pray to their gods. At any time of the day, it was normal to hear praying or singing in different languages. The chores were shared, as well as the food, but some areas were private to the king or his guests. This was mainly why it had been safe for Morgana to remain here. King Lot had immediately welcomed her and cared for her as a guardian would. As for Merlin, there had been no secret from the start. Here he was Lord Merlin Brittanicus, a dragonlord from Aria's Cradle, and that was surprisingly a position that he was getting accustomed to.

Stopping to catching his breathe, he heard raised voices coming from the corridor and decided to go into that direction.

A servant boy bowed to him as he passed.

"Where's the King?" Merlin asked straight away.

"King Lot or King Arthur, my Lord?"

A shiver ran on Merlin's spine. If the two rulers were sharing diner and there was wine involved, the conversation could get embarrassing for him.

Merlin did not waste a moment and he burst into the dining hall.

"Ha! There you are, lad," cried out King Lot as soon as he saw him. "King Arthur was beginning to worry."

Just as Merlin had feared, the two nobles were sitting comfortably at the dining table. King Lot's white hair was longer than the last time Merlin had seen him. His belly too had extended. The old king was sitting with his back to the fireplace and he was grinning mischievously.

Arthur cranked his neck to watch Merlin enter the room. "I merely expressed some concern about your general health," said the young king. Then he stuffed some more bread into his mouth.

King Lot snorted loudly at Arthur's comment. "He and Morgana have been pacing this room for hours, wondering when you might wake up. Both of them refused to get any sleep until they were certain you were out of danger. They would probably have starved too if I hadn't had the good sense of ordering some food."

Indeed, as Merlin glanced at the table, he saw that it was filled with colourful vegetable and fruits, cheese, bread and a large roasted turkey. Merlin wasted no time and took a seat near Arthur, digging into a large bowl of blueberries.

"Where is Morgana?" he asked innocently.

"She went to get changed," said the old king. "I couldn't stand the sight of her in them trousers."

"And Gwaine and Galahad?"

"They're with Morgana," said the young king, sounding slightly annoyed.

"How long was I…?"

"She remembers everything," said Arthur, cutting him off and glaring at him intensely. "That bit of magic that she did unlocked something in her memory. You were healed, but you weren't waking up. Coming here seemed like our only option. Morgana led the way, and here we are."

Merlin felt as though he had just been punched in the stomach. "What do you mean by 'everything'? What did she say?"

Arthur leaned back in his seat, arms crossed on his chest. "Gwaine wanted to tie her up and cover her mouth to keep her from doing any spells. You know what she said then?"

Merlin shook his head.

"She said 'do what you feel you must. As long as you keep him alive, I'll do whatever you want'. Now why on Earth would she say something like that, Merlin?"

He was about to open his mouth to reply when King Lot suddenly burst out laughing.

"Do you see it now, Arthur Pendragon? Love is going to save your kingdom. Not the strength of numbers or the power of a wizard. Just the love of two people who are as opposite as day and night."

The young sorcerer could feel his face growing red. This was exactly the conversation that he did not want Arthur and King Lot to have. And the glare that Arthur kept throwing in his direction wasn't helping him feel any better.

After a few seconds of tensed silence, Arthur leaned forward on the table to address the king.

"Love, my Lord, is not going to breach Camelot's defences. But five thousand armed men might."

"Make that five thousand men and one woman."

Merlin did not even need to turn around to know who had entered the room. He could feel Morgana's magic sparkling all around him like soap bubbles. Without thinking about it, he rose from his seat, hesitating about how to greet her. A sudden burst of pain inside his chest forced him to clench his teeth. After a few seconds he felt ready to talk, but two very annoying knights choose that moment to make their entrance.

"Stand down!" cried out Gwaine at once, looking livid.

Morgana's glance went from Merlin and then to the knights.

"I told you that he was awake," she said irritably. "That's why I left in a hurry. I couldn't just wait for you two to stop your bickering and pay attention to what was happening."

Gwaine's and Galahad's faces suddenly grew red.

"You are not to leave our sight," Gwaine retorted forcefully.

"Calm yourself, lad," said King Lot. "Lady Morgana is still my guest and so are you. The rule in this house is 'no killing each other'. The first one to disobey that rule will have me to deal with."

"She cannot be trusted, my Lord," said Galahad.

Merlin didn't like the tone that this conversation was taking. He meant to protest, but a wave of nausea swept over him and he swayed on the spot instead. Black spots filled his vision and he only came back moments later when a splash of water hit his face.

"For goodness's sake, Arthur! Did you have to do that?"

Underneath Morgana's snappy retort, there was something else like disguised concern. When he opened his eyes, he saw her as though she was shrouded in white light. Her white dress was floating around her and her black hair was like a storm.

"I like your dress. It's very… white," he said weakly. He was shielding his eye from the brightness while at the same time trying to sit up.

"It's not white, it's blue," said Arthur, sounding puzzled.

Taking a deep calming breathe, Merlin finally looked up to realise that Morgana's dress was indeed blue. It was, in fact, the same blue as the coat that he was now wearing; the one that Lot had placed in his chambers as a replacement of his servant's tunic. Great, we're wearing matching outfits, he thought. Yet he couldn't really by angry at King Lot for the little joke. The old ruler had, after all, been very good to both of them.

"You look lovely," he said in a hoarse whisper, though his vision was still blurry.

"And you look like you shouldn't be out of bed," she replied.

He mumbled a feeble 'I'm fine' that did not seem to reassure either Arthur or Morgana. She was looking at him pleadingly.

"Why can't I heal you? Really heal you?" she asked in a murmur.

Merlin bit his lip. For the first time since she had entered the room, he realised just who he was talking to. Yet she did not have that aura of hatred or revenge that had once clouded her eyes. If she did indeed 'remember everything' as Arthur had put it, then she did not seem intent on killing him. Her voice, her manners, the touch of her hands on his hands; everything was the same as it had been on his last visit to the king's refuge.

And on that moment he had never wanted to kiss her so badly.

"Tell me what to do," she pleaded again.

But he couldn't kiss her. Not yet. And not in front of Arthur. The prat would give him hell for that.

Instead, he took her head between his hands and said softly, "You need to heal yourself first."

The silence that followed was broken only by King Lot loud chewing. Morgana took a step back. She was hiding her face and Merlin knew right away that he had stirred some deep emotions in her. After doing a little pacing around the table, she finally went to sit beside Arthur. The two knights, Gwaine and Galahad, took the remaining seats near King Lot.

"What's the plan now?" asked Gwaine.

Arthur straightened his back, taking a more solemn position. Or was he just uncomfortable about having Morgana sitting close to him?

"King Lot has agreed to lend us five thousand of his men. Not just any men, but trained men from his high guard."

"Do you think you can defeat Morgause with swords and spears?" Galahad said bluntly. "Even with the help of a powerful sorcerer…"

"Wizard."

Arthur almost dropped his fork at King Lot's comment. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me correctly, Pendragon," said the old ruler. "Your friend Merlin is not a sorcerer; he's a wizard." When he saw that the faces around him were all puzzled, he continued. "In the time of the Ancient Kings and Great Dragons, wizards were a bridge between the worlds. When there was a conflict, they could give a voice to the spirits. Some even said that they were spirits in human form, or that their soul came from the spirit realm. Their deep awareness made them great advisors to the kings. It is from that race that the High Priestesses of the Old Religion get their knowledge. Without wizards, there would be no sorcery today. No book of magic. No witchcraft. Where do you think those spells actually come from?"

Merlin saw many pairs of eyes turn to him.

King Lot took a few second to let them all absorb this new information, and then he went on.

"Many have speculated about why wizards have left our realm. Most likely, they wanted to take no part in the wars of men. But they left token of their existence here and there. And once in a while they send a messenger to guide us through dark times. About three hundred years ago, the spirits sent a great Seer called Taliesin so that he could tell us of darker times to come and of the return of one of their own: the wizard Emrys."

Arthur's frown became sceptical. "Do you mean… Merlin?"

King Lot grinned widely. "You call him Merlin. The druids call him Emrys. But know this, Arthur Pendragon. Magic can be studied. Spells can be learned. But there is only one race who is born of magic, and that is the race of wizards."

Arthur was staring at Merlin as though he was the oddest thing he had ever seen. It made Merlin slightly uncomfortable.

"How does that give us an advantage over Morgause?" the young king asked.

"I'm not sure," said the king while carving himself another piece of the roasted turkey. "But like I said, the wizards of legend could walk between worlds. So if your Morgause did indeed go to the World of the Dead to bring back her dragonlord and dragon shades, then Merlin is the only one here who can make the journey and hope to return."

There was a long silence around the table. Merlin could now feel the full weight of what it meant to be a 'chosen one'. There was so much that he was supposed to accomplish alone. It was very unfair. Arthur had his knights, and Gwen, and a young wizard to guide him on his path. Why couldn't he have any of that?

Resolutely, he let out a long sight and broke the silence.

"All right," he declared. "I'll do it."

While King Lot and Galahad were looking at him with newfound admiration, Arthur's reaction was quite the opposite.

"Do you actually know how to do this?" he cried out. "Going to the World of the Dead? It's not exactly finding your way to the nearest tavern. And what if you do get there? Where will you go?"

There was more on Arthur's mind behind this outburst. If he was going to lead an army to Camelot, he needed Merlin on his side. He needed magic on his side. And perhaps he needed his friend too.

Merlin swallowed. It wouldn't be easy convincing Arthur…

"There was a map."

Morgana's voice was so low that it seemed to come from far, far away. She was not looking at any of them; she was just staring at her hands, concentrating hard on whatever she was remembering.

"Morgause didn't have it, but she kept talking about what she would do when she found it. It wasn't only about what but whom; who she would bring back. She kept saying that the possibilities were limitless, though the choice ultimately belonged to the spirits. She also warned me that shades are not wholesome people. They are merely shadows of themselves, empty of will and bond by magic. They do not belong to this world. They are merely borrowed souls. And the map doesn't tell you where to go. It tells you who you need to find; who will help you the most on your quest. When you read the map, your mind has to be clear of doubts. You have to be certain of what you want." She glanced around the table nervously. "That's all I remember."

Merlin immediately turned his attention to Arthur.

"Tell me you brought that map," he said in a low voice.

Arthur clasped his hand on his chest. "You're not getting your hands on it. It's folly. We're sticking to my plan. We're marching on Camelot."

"And what are you going to do about LeNoir and those dragons?" said Galahad.

He glanced over at Gwaine for support, but the Knight of Camelot was shaking his mane of hair.

"I don't know, Galahad. If the situation is hopeless, that's where I'll be. With Arthur, I mean, keeping the army alive and fighting long enough to give a chance to Merlin to do his bit."

"I don't get it," said Galahad, puzzled. "You're actually thinking about letting Merlin go alone?"

"Merlin can do it," burst out King Lot, banging his fist on the table. "And so can Pendragon. The king and the wizard, like in the Old Days. This has long been written. And I haven't lived this long to see that dream fail."

Arthur's face turned pale. Merlin shifted on his seat, not knowing what to say. He wanted to tell Arthur to give him the map and let him go, but somehow he knew from his long years of being a servant that the decision wasn't really his call. He knew what he had to do. But it would be much easier not to do it behind Arthur's back.

At length, Arthur let out a long sigh of annoyance. "Stop giving me that look, Merlin. I know you too well. I'm giving you five days. In five days we begin our attack on Camelot whether we hear from you or not. Personally, I don't really care that you're a wizard, a dragonlord, or an idiot servant; you had better be coming back from the World of the Dead or you'll have me to deal with."

"And me," said King Lot with a wide grin.

"Aye, all of us," said Galahad, beaming. Then he turned to Arthur and added, "And when you return, Pendragon will make you advisor to the king."

"What?"

"He's a wizard," Galahad argued. "It's tradition."

Arthur's tone was softer when he spoke. "He already is my advisor. The greatest one a king could have, because he's also my friend. But Galahad is right. My first decree upon sitting on the throne again will be to make Merlin my advisor. You have my word of honour."

For a moment, Merlin was speechless. The enormity of the task before him was almost forgotten.

"Does it mean 'no more polishing your armour'?" he said jokingly, though he was sure that his voice betrayed how overwhelmed he was.

But Arthur just waved his hand in annoyance. He then took the map out from under his shirt and he sent it sliding across the table to Merlin. "Just take that godforsaken map and go, before I change my mind," he said in a voice filled with emotion.

But as Merlin stretched out to pick up the old map, his fingers brushed against the soft skin of somebody else's hand.

Morgana had reached the map first.

…

Word from the author:

Long chapter. I hope it wasn't too confusing. Do you like that Merlin is a wizard? No crossover intended. I wanted to summarize his identity and this seemed like the right word for it.

Also, I received some comments regarding the fact that Merlin's magical skills are a bit pathetic so far. All I've got to say about this is… read on and all will become clear.

Please review!

HighEmpress