A/N: Here it is. Thank you so much for the reviews :) hope you enjoy this one!
Also do you guys happen to know a BAMF!Merlin story where Merlin disappears and then Camelot is cursed to keep raining so Arthur recruits sorcerers to end the curse. Then Merlin comes back as a raven, and he uses blood magic to wipe out an army? It's driving me insane!
DAY 1
So all-in-all, it wasn't too horrible yet if Arthur was being honest with himself. They had been given rooms in the back hallway of the basement and they were (for the most part) magic – free. Emrys had been the ones to lead them to their rooms, show them where everything was, before he scampered off to wherever it was that all-powerful sorcerers went.
When they had gone back to the stone table, they're had been a huge feast, several different meats and fruits, spread across it. Only Lancelot ate with them though. Will was too busy hating life somewhere else and Emrys apparently wouldn't be eating with them very often.
Arthur had decided he liked Lancelot, quite a lot actually and he was still making up his mind about the other two so he didn't mind Lancelot being the only company.
They had gone to bed early that night, tired from the traveling. Arthur normally would take this as a rare occasion to sleep in, but Emrys had other plans.
Which is how he got here, eyes squinting at the man with the fire eyes at the foot of his bed, the sun's rays barely high enough to stream through the window.
"Rise and shine!" And the kid's smile was earth-shattering, but it wasn't enough to keep Arthur from being cranky.
"The hell?" He croaked out as Emrys turned to the wardrobe, held out a hand and one of Arthur's shirts floated over to his bed and folded itself nicely on his bed.
"Alright, so today I was figuring we could walk down to one of the camps and I'll show you around a bit, yeah?" Emrys was apparently still talking, while Arthur blinked at him, "Breakfast is upstairs when you're ready to leave. Please don't take too long."
And with that, the stupid sorcerer strutted straight out of the room.
Arthur sat up in bed, letting the sheets slide back to reveal his naked chest. He scrubbed at his eyes, yawned, and then figured, 'why the hell not' and got dressed. He wore his brown trousers, a blue tunic, and his brown vest. He figured it made him more incognito.
He had just gotten to the top of the stairs when Emrys turned on his heel from where he was leaning against the wall, looking out the window. He took one look at Arthur, smiled, golden eyes alight, "They're still going to recognize you."
Arthur looked down at his shirt and frowned. He hadn't met very many druids and the ones he had met, they were dead, so how would they recognize him.
"Because they're not stupid, Arthur," He pointed to the plates of fruit and cheese, "Now eat up."
"Are you reading my mind?" He said absentmindedly as he went to make himself a plate of food. Leon was sitting in the far corner of the room with Lancelot, chatting.
He wasn't expecting to get an answer. It had been kind of rhetorical because no one was capable of reading someone else's thoughts.
"Yeah. No offence, but it's really easy too."
Arthur stopped mid-grab for an apple and turned to Emrys, who just raised an eyebrow. He opened his mouth to say something, maybe just to ask how the hell he was capable of doing that, but then he remembered. Instead he settled on, "You look different today."
And it was true, he did. Yesterday he had been wearing an incredibly stupid outfit, brown trousers, blue tunic, brown jacket and a red neckerchief. Today, he almost looked the part of a king. He wore black trousers, a black tunic, and a black jacket that looked remarkably similar to Arthur's red one that was tucked away in the wardrobe.
It made his gold eyes even more obvious. Even more alien.
He shrugged, "I think it gives me a regal look, yeah?"
Arthur nodded, but said nothing more. He sat down at the table with a plate of bread and cheese, apple forgotten. His other knight was sitting across the table from him, Will beside him.
Will was glaring at him. Arthur, at one point, got fed up and dropped the piece of bread onto his half-finished plate. Emrys, who had taken to standing by the wall like a socially-awkward teenage girl (in Arthur's opinion), took a step forward, "Do you have a problem with me, Will?"
Will's eyes narrowed, "What would give you that idea, sire?"
"Well considering you've spent the last five minutes glaring of me and you also just spit out my name…" Arthur muttered. Emrys stood behind him, looking far more concerned than he should be.
"Well geeze, I don't know what you could possibly do to make me hate you. Oh wait, you could kill him. And since that's what you're planning to do…"
"I came to talk. To reach an agreement."
"I'm not stupid. Neither is he. You plan to kill him and everyone else with magic."
"That is not my intentions and even if it was, I fail to see how that concerns you."
Will scoffed, his face red and angry, "Just because I'm not a sorcerer, doesn't mean I will stand for the persecution-"
"Are you ready?" Emrys said and Will's mouth was suddenly shut. Will glared up at Emrys, and his friend gave him an apologetic look.
Arthur nodded, forgetting his plate and standing to his feet. Will glared at him until he was out the door.
Emrys didn't say anything at first, just led him to the horses that were out back. They mounted in silence. Emrys pointed to a path that led down the side of the mountain and Arthur pushed his horse into a trot.
The first few minutes, more like the first forty minutes, was pure, aching, awkward silence. The kind of silence that you would rather run yourself over with a herd of cattle than sit through for longer than five minutes.
"I'm sorry about Will."
Arthur jumped, not expecting the man beside him to talk.
"He's just protective. But he means well. Honestly, he does," Arthur stayed silent. Emrys turned to him in the saddle, his golden eyes bright, "I want you to know I don't hate you."
Arthur cocked his head to look at him, "What?"
"I don't hate you. For what you've done to my people."
Arthur clenched his jaw, "Your 'people' have done just as much to m-"
"I know," Emrys interrupted, "I know and that's why I don't hate you. There's no use in blaming anyone. I just hope you feel the same."
Arthur again tried to say something, but Emrys again interrupted, "Just promise me something."
They had reached the bottom of the mountain and entered the woods. The woods were slowly diminishing, the hills stooping lower and lower, until they had reached some kind of marsh.
"What?"
Emrys turned to look at him yet again, "You'll be open-minded this week. Let me show you my world, before you show me yours."
No matter what, this man was going to the chopping block, so why not give the man what he wanted? Arthur may not believe sorcerers to be good people, but he was anything but cruel. Emrys was still a man with a dying wish and Arthur had to honor that. He nodded.
Emrys smiled.
They had passed over the marsh and as they approached the tree line, Arthur could see the beginnings of a rock formation, possibly a cave. Once he got closer, he saw that yes, it actually was a cave, but it was much more. It was also a camp. The front of the cave had the same pulsating magic that lied within Emrys' basement, the flowing waterfall of blue and red that ran up the sides of the entrance of the cave. A camp, with various tents (Arthur could count at least twenty something) and several campfires, were set out around the cave's opening.
Numerous men and women were scurrying around, laughing, carrying baskets, leading small ponies to the pens in the back, and children danced around their ankles.
They were a few yards away when two children came running out to the marsh and beamed up at them with toothy smiles. Emrys smiled back and swung down from his horse, motioning for Arthur to do the same. The children led their horses away while Emrys and him walked towards the camp.
A few people stopped and bowed, several calling him "Lord Emrys" and a few more saying "Sire" or "my king."
Emrys stopped and talked to about every single person that nodded at him, asking them about their children, or their crops, or life in general.
Arthur rolled his eyes, at this rate nothing was going to get done.
"And this is Arthur Pendragon," Emrys had apparently decided it would be a good idea to introduce the son of the man who had killed half of their people, "He's visiting. Arthur, this is Kara."
The girl look grim and not at all happy to see Arthur, but she held her hand out nevertheless. He took it and bowed to her slightly, kissing her hand as he had been trained to do. She smiled tightly, "Nice to meet you, Prince Arthur."
Emrys, if he noticed anything at all, was delightfully happy, his grin stretching from one ear to the other, "I'm gonna show him around. Is training still going on?"
"Yes, my lord. Mordred is with them now."
"Excellent," And with that, Emrys started off in the direction behind the cave, in the dip of the hills, but not without talking to at least five more people on his way.
When they finally did turn the corner, it led to a small meadow, where the grass seems to have been burned and stopped growing. In the center of the field
In the center of the field were eleven kids, varying in age from eight years old to eighteen. An older man stood in front of them, his hand was extended and in his palm, levitating just off the surface of his hand, was a ball of blue light. He said something, Arthur couldn't hear it, and all the kids extended their hands and a similiar ball of light, varying in colors, appeared in their hands.
"You're training sorcerers..." Arthur whispered, watching as just a little kid, barely older than eight, held his hand out and the orb floated over his head, into the morning sky.
"And your father is training an army," Emrys whispered, "I'm not training them to kill. They're not soldiers. They're learning spells that will help them. Defensive spells, conjuration spells, healing spells, spells that will help them grow crops. They're not trained to kill. That light spell you see, it's to help them if they get lost in the dark."
Arthur just stares. There's a boy in the middle of them. He looks to be the oldest. His hair is curly and his jaw is angular and he's focused now on a plant in front of him, while the instuctor walks around and helps the others. He holds his hand out, chants something and the small plant sprouts upwards and upwards until it now has a green tomato hanging from it.
"That's Mordred. He's the defender of this camp. Every camp has one."
"Why are you telling me this, Emrys?"
Emrys' gold eyes were on him once again, "Because I trust you."
"You don't know me."
Emrys smiled, "No, not yet, but I will."
With that, he headed down into the field. The children stopped at the sight of them and bowed. Emrys smiled at them kindly, bowing his head to them as he passed. "Mordred, a word?"
Mordred nodded and jogged up to him, dropping to his knees. Arthur joined Emrys at his side. Mordred was young, but not as young as Arthur had originally thought. His jaw and his eyes said as much.
"Stand, Mordred." Mordred did so. Emrys turned back to Arthur, "This is Arthur. I want you to show him around the camp."
"Sire?"
"Trust me." And with that, Emrys turned and suddenly, he wasn't there anymore.
"What the hell..." Arthur mumbled. He turned back to the boy with the large blue eyes, "Does he do that alot?"
"Yes and no." Whatever the hell that meant, but the boy was already tugging Arthur up the hill towards the camp again.
He stopped by each tent, explaining their uses, one was a medic tent, one was the blacksmiths, one was the cooks and so on. It was set up much like the military camps Arthur and his army had set up before.
"This isn't our only camp by the way," Mordred was saying, "There's five more, but this is the largest one."
Arthur peered around the camp, "It doesn't look very big."
"That's because most of it is underground," he pointed to the mouth of the cave, "I don't know if I can take you in there though."
"Why?"
"Well we'll see, come with me."
When they got to the front of the cave, Arthur peered up to where the two sides, the red and blue, of the magic joined. He followed down the blue wall, to the floor, where a small white line was drawn across the entrance. Mordred stepped through and the white line flashed blue and both sides of the cave shown with a blue light.
"Come on now," Mordred nodded at him.
Arthur stepped over the line and watched as it flashed red up at him, the walls turning red. He looked back at Mordred, who was giving him a disappointed look.
"Emrys enchanted this cave to read your heart. If you have any cruel intentions toward our people, the walls will turn red, like a warning to the people inside."
"I don't want to hurt any of you." Arthur quickly said. Because really the odds were against him, what with a hundred sorcerers just down the hall.
"Maybe not today." Mordred walked past the line again, walls turning blue and headed towards the center of the camp, where a few benches were surrounding a fire pit.
Mordred sat down and so did Arthur.
"So this is all Emrys?" Arthur gestured around, to the stupid cave and the laughing children.
"He watches over all of us. All the time." Mordred nodded.
"How...I mean..." He groaned, his head falling into his hands, "I don't even know what questions I want to ask, I just have so many."
Mordred laughed, "I know. Our camps used to get raided alot, back during the purge. I wasn't alive yet, clearly, but from what I heard it was awful. When Emrys was old enough, he put that enchantment on the cave so that no one that had any ill intent could reach us. It's our safe haven."
Arthur nodded, a small twinge of guilt twisting in his stomach at the mention of the raid, "Are his parents here? Are they just as powerful?"
Mordred shook his head, "His parents aren't druid. His mother isn't even a sorceress."
"And his father?"
"Dead." Mordred said, and as soon as Arthur frowned he shook his head, "Don't feel bad. Emrys didn't even know him."
"How did he get, you know?" He raised his hand above his head to gesture widely, trying to indicate magic.
"We don't really know. I mean the prophecies never really went into much detail about how Emrys came to be Emrys, but...there's rumors. Some people, especially people from your country, believe his father to be a demon, or worse, the devil himself. That was one of the more interesting ones I've heard."
Arthur watched as a small child ran to his mother, a trail of very peculiar butterflies (they were glowing for fuck's sake) following behind him. Behind her, Emrys was waving his hand, a wide smile across his face.
"He's a good guy though." Mordred said, in a much quieter tone, "He's like an older brother to me."
Arthur didn't say anything.
"You're going to kill him, aren't you?" Mordred finally whispered.
Athur whipped his head around to look at him. Mordred's blue eyes were opened wide, pleading for Arthur's honesty. Arthur looked down and bit his lip.
Morded nodded, "I figured. A Pendragon in a druid camp is never a good sign."
"Answer me something, Mordred," he nodded, "If he knows what I plan to do, why bring me here? Why show me this? Why expose your base to everyone? Doesn't that anger you? He's basically betraying all of you."
The boy was silent for a minute before he spoke, "I don't know why he brought you here, but I have to trust that he knows what he's doing."
Emrys chose that moment to walk over to them, "Getting to know each other?"
Mordred nodded and so did Arthur.
"Oh, Kara was looking for you." Emrys said, pointing over his shoulder.
Emrys sat down where Mordred had been sitting, and stretched out his too-long legs. Arthur glanced over at him, "Why have you brought me here, Emrys? To guilt trip me?"
Emrys held up a hand to his own cheek, looking like a wounded puppy, "I would never!"
Arthur rolled his eyes and looked back at the camp.
"And stop calling me Emrys."
"Okay, sorcerer."
"Better, but not great."
"Idiot? That work better? The idiot sorcerer that exposed his own base."
"Ass."
Arthur, for the life of him, had never been called an 'ass'. He was sure people had said it about him behind his back, but never to his face. He turned an astounded look to the sorcerer beside him.
"You can't address me like that."
"Okay, okay. You are an ass, my lord."
"I could take you apart with one blow."
Emrys laughed at that, threw his head back, and it really was an obnoxious sound, like a braying donkey. When he was finished laughing, he turned his head to look at Arthur and smiled.
Arthur suddenly couldn't breathe. Not like Emrys had taken his breath away or anything. It was more like a literal gagging, can't breathe, kind of feeling. One hand flew to his throat, the other reaching for his sword.
Suddenly Emrys looked away and the feeling was gone. Arthur gasped, desperate for air, even if it had only been a few seconds.
"I could take you apart with less than that," Emrys smiled and then stood, offering out his hand, "Also, call me Merlin. No one ever does, but it's my name and I'd like to be called it. Lunch is about to be ready, so come on."
For the third time that day, Arthur muttered (while rubbing his throat), "what the damn hell."
On the second day, Arthur simultaneously met a dragon and had a heart attack.
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